The SetUp
by Jamille Shane
Summary: Two grandparents from separate families work to avoid a tragedy. All original characters. And yes, there are Vulcans. Takes place about the time of ST:TNG. Possible shadings of angst.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N - I wrote this about three or four years ago and didn't want it to ever see the light of day. But I took it out and dusted it off and decided to edit and post it here. What's the use of writing stories no one else will ever read? Hope you like my original characters in the Star Trek setting and I hope you review. It's about six chapters long (or five?). As usual, there's a Vulcan involved...okay, in this story, there's a lot of Vulcans! Yes, I am obsessed!_

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek, I don't make any money off of it. Sure as heck wish I DID, but last I checked that's not illegal!

* * *

Tila Van Zandt was more than a little stressed out and she was worried her grandfather would know all about it. He had certain abilities since he was not human.

He came from a race of people called the Giseth. They were long-lived and wise. And grandpa could tell a lot from just looking at a person. Today, of all days, he'd left her a message requesting that she meet him for dinner.

Initially, she thought about not going. Not because she didn't want to go, she loved her grandfather more than almost anyone else she knew. But because he would sense what was wrong (and the source of her problems) without ever even asking a question, it was almost a minefield of disaster if he so much as reached out and touched her hand. From just that one action he would know everything.

The only genetic piece of that Giseth gift Tila picked up was an almost Betazoid form of empathy and slight touch telepathy. Her ability was not at all or profound. It was just enough that it helped her get by a little easier on occasion. It had gotten her into more trouble, truthfully, but she figured those were just the hazards of someone mostly-human living on Earth in the 24th century.

But she loved grandpa and wouldn't have him sitting in a restaurant awaiting her arrival since she knew 'no' was not an answer he would take. _People who stand up their grandpas burn in hell_ she thought…not that she even believed in hell. So she got dressed and considered wearing gloves.

She reached the restaurant less than five minutes before he expected her there. (Grandpa had always been a stickler for punctuality.) And there he was, waiting for her. He pretended he didn't sense her entering the establishment, but she knew he was just being polite and trying to blend in. Old habits died hard living amongst humans for almost four centuries. She took a moment to look at the side profile of the face she loved so much. Grandpa Orin was very tall, not unusual for a Giseth; he was almost six-six. He had a head full of silver luxuriant hair that he kept just past his shoulders and in a ponytail like most men from his people. When she was a little child he used to let her play in it. Like most little girls, she had been merciless in the silly styles she put on him. Ponytails that extended this way and that, braids and twists. Once she even experimented with cornrows on him. She had no idea back then how much pain grandpa endured just to make her happy. As she grew older, at first she didn't understand why such a dignified man allowed his grandchild to do such daft things to his hair.

As time and age became a filter for wisdom, she realized she was the only grandchild he had since her father was his only child. It was the drawback, she would discover, of being from a race that could live so long. One progeny your entire existence, and for a couple of rare Giseth, maybe even two.

Some part of her always reverted backward when she saw him, and she found herself rushing to his side as if she were merely seven or eight. "Grandpa!" she greeted him happily as she walked up to him, her concerns over what he might be able simply from touching her temporarily forgotten.

"Hey!" he said as he smiled widely, his teeth straight and beautiful, his eyes alighting at the sight of her voice. It warmed her heart to know how much he loved her just from the light of his eyes. They said the day she was born, his first and probably only grandchild, he wept tears of happiness. He stood quickly from his chair and before she could stop him, he bent down to kiss her on the cheek. And just like that, he knew everything that had happened. To his credit he didn't say a word, but she knew he was not pleased one bit.

What did grandpa know instantly? Well for starters her job wasn't going as well as she'd made out to everyone else. She wondered every other day if she were on the verge of being fired. She gave and gave but her boss was one of those prima donnas with an attitude who wanted your entire life, your very _soul_, invested in her and her company.

Tila at first hadn't minded the hectic pace, the calls at 4 a.m., the last minute assignments. But after two years, it was getting to be a bit much. All she was, when it came down to it, was a secretary/personal assistant. She had never gotten the opportunity to take a day of vacation in the two years she worked there, every sick day she had had been interrupted by calls from the boss, and she had carried out her share of ludicrous errands while serving the lady. Being born and raised on Vulcan, Tila had learned how to keep her emotions under wraps and do whatever her job entailed, complaint free, but the final straw had come the week before when her boss sent her to the dog groomers to pick up her small breed dog. Had it gone well, it wouldn't have been a blip on the radar of her life. But of course, it had not.

The dog, Precious, had not been there and come to find out there had been some kind of mix-up by the groomers where her priceless designer two-way mixed breed had been switched up with some four-way mongrel.

When she put in a call to tell her what had happened, the boss had inexplicably tried to place the blame on her. There was but so far you could push Tila…

The mix-up had been straightened out, but that was the day she began to seriously think of quitting her job and finding something.

What else did grandpa know instantly? Her roommates were driving her just a little bit insane. A little bit. At least she loved them all and they felt the same in return. But this was not what Tila's mind was really avoiding.

Grandpa now knew about Samuel. Her so-called 'boyfriend' of nearly one year. He'd given her a 'we should see other people' speech at dinner the other night after a year of what she now saw was wasted time. Truly she should have seen it coming. He'd waxed hot and cold through their entire relationship. The first few weeks he was so happy, enthusiastic, over the top in love with her. Then one day he'd picked her up for a date and treated her funny, said he wasn't sure about what he wanted anymore. A week after that it was as if the incident had never happened.

The strange treatment didn't start up again until a month later and he began to mess up in major ways. Disappearing for hours, sometimes days, and not telling her where he was. Blowing up at her if she asked him where he'd been. At first she thought these things were normal. She'd never had a real relationship before with a man, so honestly she had no point of reference. All she ever heard from everyone on Earth was 'relationships are hard'. She assumed this was what they'd meant by 'hard'. But when her roommates found her huddled in a ball in her bed less than three months before when he'd told her he wasn't sure he loved her anymore, she finally broke down and told them all of what was going on between them. And she could tell from their reactions that this most certainly was not normal human behavior between a man and woman. Then she realized she was stuck in one of 'those' relationships. It was like a bucket of water on her opinion of Samuel.

Some days she would wake up and remember how much easier it had been growing up on Vulcan. What was said, was meant. You did what you did without pretense. There were no unspoken lies. The only things unspoken were things that were simply none of your business. Living here on Earth was turning into an exhausting venture. And now grandpa knew it all. But to his credit, she knew he wouldn't say a word.

"Tila," he said after they'd enjoyed appetizers, "remember my shop back on Vulcan in the section of Shi'Kahr, Crafter's Section?"

She smiled. He had translated the name into Fed Standard. It lost its flavor that way. "I remember. I spent two years working there when I was younger." It was also the best working two years of her adult life. She'd attended the Vulcan Academy during the first half of the long Vulcan day and kept records at the store during the second half of the long day. That shop was a constant in her life since she'd been a baby. She remembered visiting there or being brought there throughout her life. And then finally, of all the honors, she was asked to work there. But at the age of 21 her mother had convinced her she should leave for Earth, get to know 'her people'. So she bought it, hook, line and sinker and found herself on the way to the planet of most of her forebears.

He looked as if he were hesitant to mention something. "The shop is in a little bit of trouble," he finally said.

She was genuinely troubled by the thought. "Oh, no. What's wrong?"

"The agreement I've had with Clan Mother T'Kaletul, it's being called in, as you say."

"What?" she said, not understanding what he meant.

Grandpa leaned on the table conspiratorially and looked into her eyes. It was the quality about him that endeared her the most. He always spoke to her as if they were equals. Another Giseth quality. "Apparently it's not good enough to have just any relative working there on my behalf. As you know your father worked there for decades. Then your mother worked there for years. Then you worked there for two years. T'Kaletul was always impressed by what you'd done to those records. Anyhow, when you left for earth, your mother went back to working there. Then your father took up the job again for a little while. But he couldn't do it any longer. So he had a cousin from his mother's side come in and work there. Well T'Kaletul is apparently not at all satisfied with anyone else but a direct descendant of me working in the shop. The only exception is the spouse of my child, your mother. And that's all. That was, after all, the original agreement. We all speak Vulcan, understand the customs and traditions, our minds are versatile. We all also speak Giseth and Fed Standard…the cousin that's there now only speaks Fed Standard since he's only just immigrated to Vulcan, doesn't understand the nuances of Vulcan life, is not part Giseth nor can he speak that language. The whole thing has turned into a mess."

"The clan mother, what's her part in this?" she asked, curious.

"T'Kaletul always has someone working in the shop who happens to be a direct descendant of her, as well."

"That's easy for her, though. Clan Mother T'Kaletul has like how many children and grandchildren? But you only have me and daddy and by extension mom."

"Those were the stipulations when we entered this venture," said grandpa with a nod and a sigh. "It was over a century ago but it was supposed to be a joint Vulcan-Giseth shop and they don't want the humans working there to not have Giseth in their veins unless it's your mother. And as the humans would say, the buck stops there. An agreement is an agreement."

"Wow. I had no idea, grandpa."

"This is where it gets good," he said as he smiled, his grey eyes looking very merry. "My first cousin has agreed to come and help in the shop at the beginning of the year. He's an experienced Giseth crafter, so he won't be there to do office work, but one of T'Kaletul's grandchildren can fill that in by then."

She thought about it. "You mean the beginning of this year? The new year just passed less than three weeks ago, so your problem is solved." But even as she said it, she knew it couldn't be that cut and dried.

"No, I mean the beginning of the next year."

"So for the rest of this year…" her voice trailed off. Oh. She got it. Mom and dad really shouldn't have to be tied to the shop by a chain any longer. Daddy had worked at the shop nearly fifty years before he'd met her mother. Grandpa had been there a nice amount of time. And Tila remembered her mother working at the shop on and off throughout her entire youth. It was, after all, a joint family venture between her grandfather and the clan mother. Then she realized, "I've only done two years in the shop." She was beginning to feel awful as it dawned on her, "I'm almost 30 and I've only put in-"

His face clouded over. "Now I don't want you to feel bad about-"

"I feel positively awful! I had no idea that-"

"There's no way you could have known," he said as he patted her hand. "We've never made a big deal out of it to you. And that's why I don't want you to feel badly. As a matter of fact, if you can't do it, I'm prepared to pack this very week and go back to Vulcan. You're a young woman and I know you have a busy life here. It's about time I got back to Crafting, anyway."

She thought about it for one split second and decided no, no way was she going to let grandpa do it. He'd just found some cute older Betazoid lady to date and the two were a hoot together. No way was she breaking that up. And Samuel was what her roommate Sherrie had described as, "Not worth a damn anyway."

Tila faced the facts. She hated her job, she was nearly 30 and too old to have that many roommates and now Samuel had decided they should 'see other people'. According to her roommates, that was his way of playing the field while breaking up with her while still keeping her on a short leash. She was not in any way interested in 'seeing other people' and he knew that. It was one of the only times in their relationship he'd reduced her to tears right in front of him. Her face burned in shame and anger at the memory that was less than a week old. She decided, right there on the spot. "Grandpa, I'm going to Vulcan, all right?"

His face softened. "Are you sure, lamb?" he called her by her pet name.

Her face softened, too. "My only regret is I won't see you every week like I do now." She smiled, mischief in her face. "But I know Charmien will keep you company. I'll start packing the instant I get home."

Tila, true to her word, went home that very evening and began packing. She informed her roommates, scheduled a flight out for as soon as possible -courtesy of grandpa- and the next day called her job to quit.

"You owe me two weeks notice," said her boss over the view screen, her face quite vexed.

She hadn't even paused during her packing while she was speaking to her boss…ex-boss. "I would owe you two weeks notice if I were _resigning_. I am, in fact, quitting. There's a difference," she said as she briefly pointed at the screen, then resumed stuffing her clothing into a bag.

Ms. Oster was taken aback. Young Miss Van Zandt had never spoken so smartly at her. "Pardon me!" she almost trumpeted. "You don't even have the decency to sit down and speak to me about this?" Was that hurt in her voice?

Tila sighed and stopped packing, sat down in front of the view screen and decided to level with her boss. "Ms. Oster, my family business is in some kind of trouble on Vulcan. I owe them my allegiance first, I'm sure you understand that."

She sighed. "No, in fact, I don't. My own daughter would never drop even a teacup to lift a finger to help me. And you get word from your grandfather, no less, and there you are, off to Vulcan." Then she smiled slowly as the hardness in her face disappeared. "Such loyalty is rare, Tila. And you have it."

She was taken aback. The woman had called her 'Young Miss Van Zandt' for as long as she could remember. "Ms. Oster?"

"Call me Madeleine. And if you ever need anything, anything at all…I have some connections on Vulcan, all right?"

Tila didn't know who this person was. She'd worked for her two years and had never seen this side of her once. Why did she wait until the day she quit to show this to her?

As for Samuel, she didn't even bother to tell him good-bye directly. The relationship was as good as fried, anyway. She left him a message and then right after that left for the spaceport. He wanted to see other people. Fine. If he wanted her, truly wanted her, she left an address and a vid-number on Vulcan she could be reached for at least a month. She expected to live with her parents, at first, after all.

As soon as Tila arrived back on Vulcan she felt herself relax into the heat. She remembered how all of her roommates used to get upset at her for turning the heat up in the apartment her first few weeks there. So she'd consigned herself to wearing lots of socks, turtlenecks and sweaters. But now, she wouldn't have to wear all the layers of clothing anymore, thank goodness.

She went straight to her parents from the shuttle depot on Vulcan and slipped back into everyday life on the planet. It was not as easy as she remembered it to be. She'd never found it necessary to 'hide' her emotions, though she lived there, but she was also, as a result, not as demonstrative as other girls her age from earth tended to be. But being back home, she realized she'd developed some seriously human habits like staring at something she didn't quite comprehend, sucking her teeth when she was disgusted and using a swear word or two under her breath when she was exasperated. She was going to have to see if she could shed those habits lest she rub someone the wrong way at the shop.

Her parents were happy to see her, but her mother was quite upset. "I thought I told you to go to earth and experience life there, young lady!" said her mother.

"Mom, grandpa needs me for at least a year and that's what I'm going to do."

"I wanted you to meet a nice man and get married or something," said her mother.

"She has plenty of time for that," her father intervened.

But her mother was worried that her daughter would languish, unmarried and lonely, on Vulcan.

Tila knew since it was a family business it was totally up to her how much time she spent in the shop. It was in the Crafters section of the city and she made it her business to make it there the next day, just to survey what had happened to the excellent record system she'd introduced years before.

She entered the shop and was struck by instant nostalgia. The smell of hot pottery and the specially mixed paints to decorate and adorn them found her nostrils and it took all of her internal willpower to not tear up at all the memories of the shop as a child. Taking several deep breaths, she willed it to pass. And just in time, because she heard someone coming from the back of the shop. There were two voices, actually.

Both males that came out of the back were quite similar in general appearance. They hailed from the same family, T'Kaletul's in particular. Both had the soft deep voices of the men of that clan, though their voices differed in several ways. And one of them she already knew very well.

As both Vulcans registered her presence, the one familiar to her only showed his surprise in one way. His eyes widened. "Little Tila," he addressed her.

"Valen," she said as she nodded politely. "You look well."

He raised the ta'al, "Peace and long life, young one. What brings you home? What of Earth? Is all well?" It was the closest to 'troubled' she'd ever seen him get. He didn't know what she was doing here? Didn't they know she was coming?

"Grandfather said Clan Mother was not pleased with father's cousin from the distaff side attending the shop; they need a direct descendant with Giseth blood."

Valen and his wife, T'Nel, had watched Tila on occasion since she was very little. Because of that, she had always regarded Valen as just another uncle. Truthfully she had spent a big chunk of her life with the Shi'Kahr branch of the Clan Mother's family. But there were whole sections she'd never set eyes on. Like the young man at Valen's side, watching her.

"This is my nephew, Tiren," Valen introduced him.

Tiren raised his hand in the traditional greeting, "Live long and prosper."

And Tila raised her hand in return. "Peace and long life to you."

Though he resembled Valen, there was something very different about Tiren but she couldn't quite identify. He was thicker in musculature than most Vulcans. His face was also more alert, his dark grey eyes giving the illusion of a laid-back calm that she knew was just a veneer. His body, though, seemed ready to spring into action. Perhaps, she thought, he was a student of the Vulcan martial arts. They were often much more muscularly dense than their contemporaries and also more on the alert for danger at all times. But that would make him a bodyguard of the clan mother at some point in his life, so what was he doing in this shop?

Valen knew what she was thinking and filled in the blanks. "Tiren is here for specialty orders and to help in the back with the office work."

"Specialty orders?" she asked.

"Another wing was added approximately seven weeks ago," said her adopted uncle. "Sometimes humans and other races that move here to Vulcan wish to have woodwork done. No other shop has adopted this custom, so we have undertaken it. They pay egregious fees to have lumber shipped here from their home worlds and Tiren sculpts it into whatever form they may wish."

Tila looked over at him and nodded. He looked more than sturdy enough to deal with off-world lumber. "I see," she said. "And in the office?" she asked him.

"I will see to payments, scheduling and make appointments for delivery times," he answered for himself. His voice was not as deep as Valen's, but it gave her an insight into him. He was unhurried in his speech, as if he carefully deliberated over everything that exited his mouth.

She didn't know quite what to make of him, but the two would be seeing a lot of one another, so she supposed she would have enough time to figure him out.

Tila went into the back and saw the records that had been compiled for the past few weeks that her second cousin had attended to while in the shop. They were a shambles. The records had not been placed within the filing system she'd arranged. But it made sense as to why. That cousin did not speak Vulcan and so didn't know what to do with some of the files. Tila spent two days fixing the filing system and electronically backing it all up on the store's computer hard drive. After that was done she felt better and got down to rearranging the office according to efficiency and her needs. She also saw the need to clean it thoroughly.

Tiren, to his credit, spent half his day in the office and the other half of his day in the specialty shop working with wood, Volcanic glass and stone or artificial ivory. Since the Vulcan day was 30 hours, the workday was nearly fifteen. She spent 8 hours in the office, and when she went home, he would work in the specialty craft section.

Tila had always been impressed with the things Uncle Valen created with pottery, but Tiren's creations blew her mind. The beauty that came out of his fingers made her stand and stare at the works of art with awe for sometimes up to five minutes. The designs were simultaneously utilitarian and beautiful. But her third week back at the shop, she put her finger on what it was about the designs. They were distinctly unVulcan at times. Where had he learned his style? Whatever his style or reasoning, his work was a hit with off-worlders and even a few Vulcans, and the orders were flying in for things he made, in particular.

The two did not talk much their first month in the shop, but they worked comfortably together; they developed a routine and some unspoken rules between the two after only a short time. Since Vulcans, in general, did not make her nervous she wished she could figure out what it was about Tiren that was so different to her senses. But she couldn't. It didn't make her nervous, just unendingly curious.


	2. Chapter 2

Tila stood up from her desk and began to prepare to go home. It was finally Friday! She knew that the time of day she usually left was about when Tiren would go to work on his handmade creations. He had already gone less than an hour before into the very back of the shop to begin working and she didn't know where he might be in the creative process. Since she did not want to disturb him, she decided not to step back there to give her good-byes.

All of her possessions having been gathered and placed into her bag, she slung it around herself and onto her back, ready to trek over to the public transport that would drop her off on the edge of the desert where her parents lived.

"You are about to take your leave?" Tiren asked as he suddenly walked back out of the back and into the office section. She was already in the process of slipping her feet back into her shoes.

This habit she had of divesting her feet of shoes the moment she entered the hardwood office section of the shop, for some inexplicable reason it caught his attention that first day, the sight of her bare feet. Perhaps, he thought later, it was because he had noticed she was wearing some form of varnish on the nails of her toes. It had been a rich light gold in color. Though he had only seen it for all of two seconds before he forced himself to look away, it was as if he had taken a mental snapshot of the sight.

He'd found himself mulling over the meaning of such a thing for nearly an entire week. Why would one color ones nails any shade? Was not the natural state sufficient?

Though he did not understand why she would do such a thing, as an artisan he could not bring himself to pronounce it an illogical activity. She had only, after all, made her body into a living canvass. And the golden tone chosen to adorn her feet was a shade that complimented her dark olive skin color quite well. What he did find illogical, however, was his constant mulling over the fact that she seemed to be wearing a new color on her toes every week. And this week's color was a deep shade of blue. He had even begun to predict the probabilities in his mind of what color she would pick each week. He had yet to achieve a correct result.

He forced himself to stop thinking of the color attached to her toenails and thought of the fact that she was leaving for the day. Now that he knew her patterns of pre-departure, he understood that when she put her shoes on she was either leaving the office to go and meet with a client or she was about to go home for the day.

"Yes, it's about that time," she said to his question as she stood near the doorway, paused there to listen to whatever else he might have to say before she left. "Are there any clients I have to meet with tomorrow?" This was when he usually informed her of rare one-time Saturday meetings for off-worlders with requisitions for him, Fridays on her way out.

"No, I do not," he said as his steady quiet face looked over at her side profile since she was already turning to leave, hand on the door release switch. "What will you do with the rest of today?" he asked. It was still daylight out. It would not get dark for hours, yet.

She paused and turned back around fully to regard him closely, halfway frowning. To ask such a question was very unlike him. She then realized she didn't know him, not truly. It had only been a month since they'd met. "I was about to go shopping for groceries for my mother and then go home, maybe make dinner tonight if she doesn't feel like doing it. I haven't really decided what exactly I'll do after that." They both just stood there for a couple of seconds as an awkward silence stretched between them.

Why would he ask about her plans? Then she registered the almost uncertain look about his body language. He had gone to the back of the shop before, but she hadn't heard him in his usual process of chopping and splitting wood, not even sanding down previously finished pieces. Was he experiencing- "You need inspiration," she realized, aloud, face full of surprise before she could stop herself from speaking aloud.

He seemed noncommittal in his admission as he clasped his hands behind his back, lips set, eyes suddenly unable to meet hers. "I do seem to have run up against- a block."

She felt honestly bad for him and made an offer she didn't really think he would take her up on. "You can come with me if you'd like. I don't know if you'll find inspiration at the produce section of the Korean market on the edge of Shi'Kahr but you sure can try."

To her shock, he looked over at her with an almost tangible air of satisfaction. "Yes, I shall do so."

##

It was not too strange for her to have such a large man walking at her side. Samuel -he had called her up twice so far since she'd left Earth- was taller than her, but he was not too much bigger physically. He seemed to weigh a mere fifteen pounds more than she did. It always bothered her that she was so much curvier to his thinness, but at least that was one thing he didn't mind about her. He had always complimented her on what he called her 'superior womanly form'.

Now here was Tiren walking beside her in the streets, tall as well as big in frame. To have the hulk of him beside her made her think of her grandfather and she smiled almost sadly at the thought of him. _That_ was the big tall man she was used to walking next to her all these years. And really, who could fill his shoes? Samuel had most certainly not.

The streets were not full of people. It was a reminder that it was the time of day when most Vulcans were still hard at work. She found herself looking up at Tiren and thought of his artist's block. It didn't occur to her until then, but he had a very nice face. It was not at all pretty, but very handsome and solid with strong features, truth be told. And his lips were perfectly shaped, she found herself thinking.

Seemingly from nowhere, he spoke. "Just a moment ago you became sad. May I ask the reason why?"

Her answer was not forthcoming because she was in such a state of shock as to why he would ask such a question based on emotion, even if the emotions were hers and not his. She opened and closed her mouth several times. What he'd just done was a breach of several rules of etiquette on Vulcan. She hoped he didn't do this in his everyday life. Maybe, she realized, he had only asked her because she _wasn't_ a Vulcan. For some reason that possibility annoyed her and she couldn't understand why.

A brief flash of frustration crossed his usually unemotional face but then it was quickly gone. "I beg forgiveness for my breach. It was improper of me to ask such-"

"My grandfather," she answered out of nowhere. She didn't know why she answered him, but she realized she wanted to tell him. "I miss him." She felt stupid right after she'd said it. If he was able to pick up emotions from what her face told, she had most certainly been gone from this place too long. No one was supposed to be able to tell a thing from her facial expression. Though she was not a Vulcan, she expected herself to be a certain way when outdoors on this world!

At first he said nothing in return. He seemed to be thinking of his next question carefully. "Did you see him often?" he finally asked.

"At least once every week," she said with a small nod. She was upset with herself for having gotten upset at his initial question but she was also upset with herself simply for being upset with herself. She didn't understand what was wrong with her! He was, for some reason, trying to show concern for her and she had missed that point. She realized then that she never saw him with any friends. Maybe that's all he needed was a friend. Even Vulcans, she supposed, had to be in need of person to person contact at some point.

He looked down at her as they walked the sidewalk and though she wasn't looking directly at him, she experienced the sensation of being watched by an intense set of eyes. "I have had occasion to meet with him several times, your grandfather. He is a gifted artisan in many ways. It is an honor to serve at the joint establishment of him and my clan mother."

She found herself saying, "Grandpa's specialty is pottery and volcanic glass." She felt stupid at once. Of course he would already know that! He obviously knew the man's work well. Why was she having such a hard time with this conversation? Why was she analyzing everything she said, kicking herself for the most minor things?

He already knew the older man's specialty but didn't see the need to point that out to her. She was obviously speaking purely from a place of pride. And although pride was not logical, he did not expect deep logic from her.

His mind turned to other thoughts, then. Tiren did not understand why he'd lost inspiration in his work, though he suspected what the culprit might be. If he could find another way of seeing and experiencing things, his desire to create might return, could it not? What better way to find another point of view than to keep time with someone he ordinarily would not? It was gratifying, however, to realize she did not mind him following her in her activities to find that other point of view.

The two conversed off and on as they found their way across town. Tila was finally able to relax and stopped analyzing everything said as she shopped for her mother's items. Once she was done and ready to go home, she walked out of the market with him following closely behind. "I'm about to go home now." And they just stood there for a couple of seconds, his eyes looking down into hers. She had idea what he was thinking.

Why was he just standing there, not speaking? Maybe he didn't want to go home yet? "Would you like to come with me and have dinner with us? You helped me with the shopping, the least I can do is feed you, right?"

He did not know if that would be wise. "Your parents would perhaps not wish to have unannounced visitors."

"Oh, they're not like that. Especially dad. It's no problem, really," she assured him. "They eat vegetarian a lot of the time since dad's half Giseth and mom's half Korean, so it wouldn't be an odd meal without meat products."

The thought of foreign cooking tantalized his senses. "Then I shall accompany you," he said immediately wishing to have further inspiration for his work.

She realized then, this was exactly what he did need, a friend. And truthfully, so did she. Tila decided at that very moment to treat him as such and stop over thinking everything that came out of her mouth whenever they talked. "I move into my new apartment in less than a week, anyhow." She thought about it and then smiled a little. "You can help me pack up my room today!" she joked.

"I can?" he asked dryly, wondering how he'd been recruited for such work.

"Find inspiration in the mundane. I dare you," she said with a straight face. But he knew he was being teased by her. He mysteriously found he did not mind. "If it is tolerable to your family, perhaps I may extend my time with you. It will serve to fuel my creativity to observe different ways and customs, to partake of food not of Vulcan origin."

She shrugged happily, glad they were saying more than 'hello' and 'good-bye' to one another like they'd done for the past month. "Sure. If you like."

##

As Tiren spent the rest of Friday, piece of Saturday and most of Sunday with them, her parents didn't know what to make of it. Him staying for dinner on Friday was not what stood out to them. It was when he arrived Saturday morning with an offering of breakfast for the family that made their eyebrows climb in confusion.

He spent most of his time with Tila helping her pack up the old items in her room that had been left there when she went to Earth. Her move to her new apartment was the following week on the outer edge of Shi'Kahr.

Tila's mother simply couldn't help it and spoke to him directly about her thoughts. "Tiren, this is unusual. We are very acquainted with your family, but we did not meet you until a month ago and yet now you help our daughter with packing up her room?"

She looked at her mother, just a little bit peeved. Was she _trying_ to scare him off?

But without a beat, he responded, "I am finding inspiration in the mundane."

Tila found herself laughing almost against her will.

##

By the time they entered the office on Monday, Tila was only just containing her excitement. She would move into her new place on Tuesday and couldn't wait for the privacy! She loved her parents, but going back to live with them after years of being on her own was beginning to feel like a huge mistake.

Her father hadn't been too bad to live with again. But mom…all mom ever wanted to know was one thing.

"When will you start dating again?" she asked Sunday night after Tiren had gone home.

"Mom, I don't know," she said truthfully, a little exasperated. All her mother ever wanted was for her to get married. She realized then that she must be a real failure in her eyes since she was knocking on 30 and not even dating.

"So you _aren't_ dating anyone?" she fished.

"No."

"Why aren't you dating?"

"Mom, I just got back here like a month ago! When have I had time to meet anyone?"

"You spend too much time with that Vulcan," she commented. "He's so large he's probably scaring away all of the human men that want to speak to you! Something isn't right there! A Vulcan shouldn't have that many muscles."

She sighed tiredly. "That is just totally racist, mom!" Her mother was driving her nuts. "Come on. Haven't you seen the men that protect clan mothers? They're huge!"

"Well you never answered my question, when will you start dating someone? Someone _available_!"

"You mean 'someone human'," she muttered under her breath.

"What did you say?"

"I really don't know, okay?"

Her mother then got a look of glee on her still very attractive face as she pulled out her PADD. "Well maybe you just need a little bit of help. So look what I've got for you!" Tila looked down at the screen and couldn't believe her eyes. Her mother had compiled a list of mostly human men, complete with profiles that stated all of their basic information. She was actually so stunned she couldn't speak.

"And what a coincidence!" her mother was still talking. "All of these available men live right here, on Vulcan! This one," she said as she scrolled down to page two, "he lives right across this side of the desert with his parents."

"Well what about Samuel, mom?" she asked because she knew her mother didn't like him. She found it funny that neither of her parents cared for Samuel on the two occasions he had called for her. Tila thought her mother, at least, would like him simply because he was a suitor. Not so.

"That boy is not serious about you. I can tell from the look on his face. He only wants to have fun with your body." She knew her mother was probably right since he was currently 'seeing other people', but her mother was the last person she wanted to discuss fun, sex and men with.

She sat in the office that Monday thinking of how her mother had made her pore over page after page of available prime men. Finally getting down to business, she was able to push her mother's crusade to get her married to the back of her mind.

At some point, Tiren made his way over to Tila's desk wishing to speak with her. She was on a view-call, so he pulled up a chair silently and sat off to the side out of view of the other party. She was used to him doing this when he wished to ask her something without interrupting her call, so it didn't even phase her.

By the time she ended the business call, he had been waiting patiently for what seemed like forever to her but was in fact less than two minutes. "Tiren," she was finally able to acknowledge him. "What do you need?"

"Tila, may I ask you a question?"

She smiled at him. "By all means."

"What help do you have moving into your apartment?"

She sighed as she thought of her predicament. "I rented a shuttle to move my stuff, but that's kind of the extent of my help. Dad is going to be across planet on that day. He was really upset when he realized his business couldn't be delayed and he wouldn't be able to help me. And mom is going to help me put stuff into the shuttle from our house, but I've prohibited her from coming to my apartment and helping to unload. She had an injury last week and I don't want her to hurt herself again."

"I shall also help," he announced.

Tila frowned. "Tiren, you don't have to."

"I will not allow you to do so alone since we have become friends now. It is strenuous work, is it not?"

Tila wanted to get teary eyed but held it in. When had he decided she was his friend? "Tiren?"

"Unless you do not wish the title of 'friend'," he said seeming ready to take it back.

She saw just a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes and was shocked that she knew him well enough to catch that. "I am honored to be your friend, Tiren," she said quickly, wanting to put him at ease. "However, moving is just awful and tedious. Why would you volunteer for such a task?"

"Because you, amongst all my friends and relatives, are one of the only people who did not mind sharing your time simply to give me-" he paused to look for a word, "a muse. You have been most unselfish and I logically think it best to repay in whatever manner I can. I wish to spend what time I have helping those I see fit."

"None of your relatives helps you out when you need inspiration?" she asked.

"Clan Mother has on several occasions," he said, "but I do not wish to inconvenience her with my presence. She is very busy and unavailable lately."

"I can't even imagine," said Tila as she wondered about all the things Clan Mothers had to do. "Well, thank you so much! I haven't been home long enough to reestablish any of my childhood friendships. And to be frank, the members of your clan are the only family friends I have to call upon and I really didn't want to inconvenience any of them either, so I just didn't ask."

He realized then that the two had something in common. Neither one ever wanted to inconvenience others, so they oftentimes wound up not asking for what they might need. "You and I are friends," he said, "therefore let us make a promise that whenever help is needed, I from you or you from me, we will speak freely of it without worry of inconvenience. If one of us is busy, we will simply say so."

She couldn't help but smile at his on-the-spot decision. "I can live with that."

##

Tila found out, later that day, that Tiren had already decided not to attempt to create another artifact until the need to create moved him. She also realized he planned on spending all of the extra time with her until then. It was almost laughable to her, being a muse for a Vulcan artisan. But she did it.

She'd sat for her grandfather on several occasions to be sketched, and even Valen had made art inspired by her when she was a very small child. She had had no idea, back then, but seeing her as a little girl captured the Vulcan's creative mind and sent it into a stir, particularly her endless catastrophic energy and a penchant for breaking anything delicate in a five mile radius. As a little one, she'd been effectively banned from walking about the shop by the clan mother T'Kaletul until she was able to sit still on command for at least five minutes at a time.

The move went well on Tuesday late that afternoon. Her mother felt terribly about not being able to help Tila as much as she wished. She admitted to pain in her leg at one point but felt much better when Tiren showed up and began helping to finish load the shuttle. Her mother was thawing to the idea of a friendship between the two. She even offered him refreshments while they were moving things.

Tila didn't have too many items, would truthfully have to shop for lots of things for her apartment. Her parents had donated several small pieces of furniture but she refused to strip them of anything larger. She wanted to do things and buy items for herself.

Tiren flew across town with her and inspected her new place. The place was what he had once overheard another person describe as a matchbox. It was small, but he supposed it was sufficient. He wished to say something positive about the location since he sensed it was what she was waiting for from him. He did not understand why it was important for him to validate her emotions but he found himself forcing out the one positive he could see. "It is very clean."

"Ah, thank you!" she beamed at his compliment. "I came in last night after work and scrubbed this place from top to bottom."

At first, he felt a sense of satisfaction for having put a smile on her face for saying, apparently, the right thing. But then he thought of her coming there after a day of work to give the place an in-depth cleaning and realized, _She must be very fatigued_. He looked closely at her. Yes, he saw small signs of tiredness in her bearing.

But she was pushing past the tiredness, she was so supremely happy to have somewhere to call her own. "I didn't even have my own place on Earth, you know? This is my first time in my own apartment, all to myself," she said as she folded her arms and looked around at the almost tiny space.

"Do you have further plans for today?" he asked as they finished moving the last piece of furniture into her small apartment.

"I wanted to go and do some shopping," she said as she sat down tiredly.

"What do you not yet possess that you wish to purchase?"

Tila looked at her tiny empty living area and started to laugh. "Do you honestly not see the lack of furniture here?"

"Your bedroom is full," he objected.

"My living room is nowhere near full and I don't even have a table to eat on. And speaking of eating, I have no food in my kitchen, no plates to eat off of, no cups, no nothing extra. I don't even have forks or spoons."

"I contain all of those things," he said.

"You mean you're going to give me your kitchen stuff?" she asked, confused, as she began to rummage through a box.

"No, I simply wished to offer you a place to sleep and eat for tonight since you seem to be quite tired from the strenuous events of yesterday and today. I will cook for us both. Tomorrow after work perhaps we may shop together."

She sat there and looked up at him, not able to get past those words. It was almost as if someone mentally dropped a delicate glass object in her mind and an entire party of thought stopped to gawk inwardly at his careless words. Obviously this Vulcan had no idea of what he'd just suggested, so she forced herself to resume regular un-pervy thoughts. "That's very generous of you," she said, not even thinking to accept.

"We are friends, are we not?" he asked, as he always did when he got even a hint that she was about to turn down whatever he offered.

She groaned inwardly and sighed. "Yes, we _are_ friends, Tiren. But-"

"And do not friends help one another when it is needed?" he asked as he kneeled down close to where she sat, his eyes looking deeply into hers.

He was giving her that lecture again and she found herself nodding. "Yes, Tiren, they do," she said tiredly.

He began removing the items in her hands and placing them back in the box, the decision already made in his mind. "You are fatigued. You will damage yourself if you resume this level of work any further on this day. I would ask that you be my guest for the evening. Be logical, though I know it is not your nature, and do not tax yourself any further."

She wanted to laugh at the subtle dig he had taken at her. But she took a close look at him and all at once what she had been ignoring for weeks was staring her in the face. Besides being handsome, he was tall and big in musculature and she could never tell why. But the fact that he was half Romulan was there, in his face, in his bearing, in the slight V shaped protrusion of the top front of his forehead. Why hadn't she realized this before? And how was it she even knew what it was he was?

The biggest question in her mind was why did it not bother her? She always assumed if she ran into a Romulan, she would be scared stiff. But he was- he was more than just a label. He was her friend. "I would be honored to accept your help, Tiren."


	3. Chapter 3

Tiren would not think too closely on the matter until much later. But that evening, after having Tila enter his home, he cooked for her. She ate more than enough and then showered in his bathroom. After the nice hot shower and food, her eyes were quite heavy and he had the sudden vision of what she must have looked like as a child when sleepiness overtook her. She was sitting on his couch trying to play a game of 3-D chess with him. He moved the board aside, refusing to begin his next move.

"Tila, you must rest now," he said, thoroughly expecting her to disagree with him and state she still had some matter to attend to. He expected to have to stand, pick her up and deposit her into bed. He realized he wanted to assist her into bed, though he did not understand why.

But to his surprise, she, without protest, stood and stumbled sleepily into his guest bedroom. He followed behind her though he did not understand why he did so. She was more than capable of placing herself into bed and she did so quickly. It amazed him how rapidly she fell asleep once she lay down. "You were quite tired, indeed," he commented from the doorway though he knew she could not hear him.

Her face was peaceful, relaxed. It was the first time he had seen her so completely unguarded. He found it difficult to look away from her more than aesthetically pleasing face. He forced himself to stop staring at her as she slept and retired to his own bedroom. Once there, he found himself incapable of entering his meditative state that night.

Tiren opened his eyes, finally and simply frowned. It had been many years since he had had trouble entering meditation. Standing to pace his room, Tiren tried to order his thoughts. What was the source of this sudden non-ability to meditate?

Without thinking, his head turned in the general direction of his guest bedroom. He was not at all displeased to have her in his home. It was strange of him to realize this. In the past whenever he had had any guest, invited or otherwise, it had unsettled him in an unpleasant way and taken him some time to enter meditation. But this time, he was having trouble not because he was unsettled by some form of dissatisfaction. No, he was quite pleased, perhaps a little too pleased, that one whom now considered him a friend had trusted him enough to accept his hospitality. He had done well by making certain she did not injure herself with excessive work. It was the reason he was overly satisfied, at least that is what he told himself. But it did not make sense as to why he had trouble entering meditation.

He knew one night without meditation was not catastrophic. But he knew he would have to guard his thoughts and actions that much closer the next day. Perhaps at work he would be able to meditate later in the day before he attempted to create again.

##

That was the first of many times the two accepted one another's hospitality.

The very next day, Tiren was able to meditate once Tila left the office for the day. He amazingly was able to return to creating in the specialty room of the crafter's shop. Something about having her in his home, sleeping in his guest bedroom, stoked the fires of creativity for him. And he poured all of the excess energy into his work.

Whenever he stayed much too late at the shop, he would stop by Tila's place and sleep on her couch since her apartment, though tiny, was much closer to the shop than his.

It began a pattern of Tila coming out of her room in the middle of the night to get water to find the Vulcan on her couch deep in sleep or on the floor seated atop a mat he traveled with for such occasions, tucked in a corner, back to the wall, eyes closed, deep in the middle of his meditations. When this happened, some mornings she would come out and find him already gone. There were those days she would find he'd put together breakfast for her before leaving or that he had remained behind and prepared food for them both.

Weeks spanned into months and the two proceeded on their very symbiotic friendship. Everyone in the Shi'Kahr branch of Tiren's family already knew or knew of Tila since she was a child and so did not object to him forming such a close attachment. They knew she was as logical as it was possible for a non-Vulcan to be and she was industrious.

Tila's parents also couldn't really find fault with him. She conveniently, however, never voiced to her parents that she'd ascertained his true parentage. That was a secret she decided she would never discuss with anyone else except maybe her grandfather.

She happened upon a holo-photo of his parents sitting in his workroom at his home one day. She stood and stared at them. Yes, it was confirmed in her mind, it was his father that was the Romulan, even though she didn't understand how it was she knew. It was the Giseth in her bloodline asserting itself with this information. She wondered how his father wound up there, on Vulcan. She speculated that he'd defected at some point in his life and then settled on the world of his ancient ancestors determined to bring the bloodlines back together.

Or maybe, she thought, it wasn't so complicated after all. Maybe he moved there on some kind of working visa and happened to meet a Vulcan woman and was floored by her beauty. Tiren's mother _was_ remarkably beautiful, one of the rare almost blond-haired Vulcans who obviously took after a parent from another part of Vulcan not ordinarily seen by out-worlders.

She found herself standing there, staring at the holo-photo even longer. She smiled as she looked at it. Tiren took after his father almost completely in looks. Tall, broad shouldered and heavily dense in body, his hair was dark and appeared to be soft. He had a proud nose and his eyes were piercing, though not quite dark. But his mother had added something to his looks. The striking handsomeness he possessed had been added to the starkness of his father's features via her beauty. They had blended well to produce him.

Tiren's eyes were a strange shade of dark grey she had never seen before. The sight of him gave the impression that he was looking down on everyone he saw; the proud shape of his nose, the upward jut of his chin when he walked about, the way his eyes surveyed whatever crossed his path. But that could not have been further from his true personality. To say he had a proud face would have certainly been a human estimation. But he was the truest friend she had ever had, to that date. Even Samuel, who was supposed to be her boyfriend, had never been this constant, this true, this there for her in the simplest of things.

"What are you staring at with such deep thought?" he asked as he came up behind her.

She startled a little, and then laughed. "No, I was just looking at this picture. These are your parents, right?"

He looked as if he were guarding some secret. "You were able to ascertain they are my parents?"

She knew what it was he wanted to guard. But how was she going to tell him she didn't care without bring the subject out into the open. She decided not to. "Of course I can tell! You look just like them."

"Truly?" he asked, curious.

"I mean, you're the spitting image of your father but…I see your mother in there. She's so beautiful," she said as she looked back at the photograph.

He wanted to say that it was not logical to notice such things. So why was he staring at her himself, thinking such an illogical thing about his friend? "Thank you," he simply answered he compliment about his mother. "And he who is my father?" he asked, wondering what she thought since she had commented that he resembled him strongly.

"He's very handsome," she nodded.

He found himself with a very rare streak of humor exiting his mouth. "If I resemble he who is my father so strongly and you find him quite handsome-"

She looked up at him with a sharp intake of breath and laughed. "Oh, you shut up!" she said. If he would have been human, she would have smacked his arm or something, but she held herself back from touching him. There were still some things she knew she shouldn't engage in with him. "You've been hanging around me too much!" she pointed up at him accusingly. But she said no more.

He felt a slight moment of regret since he sensed there was something else she wished to do or say, but he couldn't tell what it was. "Come. We must meet Valen for the evening meal. He has summoned us to his home."

The day after she'd seen the photograph at his house, she sat at work and realized that as her friendship with Tiren deepened, her contact with Samuel lessened. He was, in fact, 'seeing other people' so didn't quite notice his girlfriend (ex-girlfriend?) was moving away from him. She theorized that if she just stopped calling he might not even notice at all.

##

Tila received an almost cryptic subspace call from her grandfather late one night, all the way from Earth. "Grandpa, isn't it like 4 a.m. over in California now? You should be in bed!" she chided him.

He smiled. "I just got in from a date," he proclaimed with a mischievous smile.

She groaned. "Grandpa," she said as she listened to his rich laughter. "I sure have missed you."

"I've missed you, too, little lamb." He got down to business. "But listen, I've just gotten a call from Clan Mother T'Kaletul. She's very pleased with how well the shop is doing, you know?"

She waved that off. "That's due to Tiren's creations. His stuff is amazing!"

"I remember that young man," he said. "She told me you've become his muse? Not those exact words, but there you have it."

She laughed. "I guess you could say that. He needs a different point of view, you see, to create his works. And how different can you get than me compared to whoever else he might know?"

"So you two have become great friends? At least that's what your father says."

"What, are you spying on me or something?" she joked. They laughed about that for a few seconds .

"Has he told you anything?" asked her grandfather almost delicately.

For once she wished he was sitting right there with her so she could reach out, touch him, find out all his surface thoughts. But he wasn't there and words would have to do. "Anything?" Then she thought of what she'd ascertained a few months back. "If you mean the Romulan blood from one of his parents, no, he hasn't said anything, but I've figured it out for myself, you know?"

Her grandfather seemed to be taken aback. "So he didn't tell you?"

"No, grandpa, I figured it out on my own."

He tried to smile as if that were it. "Then my grandchild is not shallow in the least and does not care about so trivial a thing. How Giseth of you. It fills me with pride." But as he signed off he looked just a little bit sad.

##

Tila was terribly troubled the rest of that night and into the next day. That conversation with grandpa had not settled right in the region of her stomach. Something was wrong. No. Something was _worse than wrong_. She didn't get nearly enough sleep trying not to think about whatever it was, but it sat there through the night and nagged at her subconscious mind, prevented her from dropping off to sleep over and over again.

It wasn't like grandpa to directly keep things from her, at least not things that were important. And she got the feeling that he was keeping something from her that was more than important in some way. Not only that, she felt like she was directly involved with whatever it was he wouldn't tell her. But what was it about?

By the time she got to work her mind was hammering away at the problem with what felt like sledgehammers and she was in the beginning stages of a serious headache. She tried to concentrate on her data entry but it was simply a no-go. She put her head down on the desk and tried to decide if she was going to go get a hypo for her headache. She forced her mind back to work and pressed on.

Tiren was pulling up a chair next to her after less than an hour. "Something is troubling you," he stated as he entered the outer sphere of her personal space. This time, he hadn't waited for her to turn and acknowledge his presence. He was there, demanding her attention.

She didn't even bother asking 'how did you know?' The two could read one another like open books at that point. "My grandfather called me last night and- I still can't put my finger on it but he was trying to find something out and trying to tell me something at the same time." She shook her head, eyes clouded with concern. It clicked then as her eyes met his. "And I think it was about you."

He almost moved away from her but forced himself to stay where he sat. "So he knows."

"Well I already knew, but I don't think that's what it was that concerned him."

Tiren was now confused. "What is it you both know about me that I have yet to tell?"

She looked at him and her hand gestured at him in an offhand way. "Well, you know," she said. "I don't even know why I should have to say it out loud. I mean that's private, isn't it?"

"Did clan mother tell you?" he said, the tips of his ears turning a deep dark shade of green.

"No!" she said. "But anyone -well not _anyone_, but anyone who knows anything about Vulcans can tell."

He almost inhaled sharply, but stopped himself. "You have somehow ascertained my Time is almost upon me?" he asked in an almost whisper.

She was now more than confused. "Time? What time?"

And now he was in a conundrum. "We must speak plainly with one another. Something, some misunderstanding has occurred and we speak of two separate things."

"You're right about that," she said, still confused. "What are _you_ talking about?"

"I believe I asked you first," he said, refusing to budge.

She sighed almost tiredly and rolled her eyes. It wasn't the first time she'd had the 'I asked you first' argument with him. She lowered her voice so much, he strained to hear her words, "Well I thought grandpa was calling to tell me about, you know, your mixed parentage. Well, not exactly 'mixed' since you guys do come from the same gene pool, so that's not really 'mixed' at all," she rambled. "I guess you could call it a cross-cultural-"

That came from nowhere, to him, and he was shocked. "How did you ascertain my father was born Rihannsu— what you call 'Romulan'?" The shock was almost open on his face.

She shrugged. "I just looked at you one day and I knew." She thought about it a little as she admitted, "It has something to do with the Giseth blood in me and the way they're able to tell whose who, but I don't know exactly how I knew."

"You are a touch telepath," he remembered, regaining control of his renegade emotions.

"I've barely ever touched you directly."

"But yet you simply knew."

She shrugged again. "Yes."

Something in him changed, some thought process went into overdrive. "Yet I sense you do not care. Did your grandfather?"

"Actually, no, not at all. The Giseth have no problems with anyone. I guess it helps that no one can catch them to conquer them! He actually made a point of telling me how proud he was that I _didn't_ care. But I know my grandpa and that's not at all what he called to find out." She was sitting there, wracking her mind, still trying to figure it all out.

He sensed she spoke the truth. "You say there was something there, unspoken, that he was attempting to tell you about myself?"

She sighed. "Yes. And I feel like it's important but..." She stopped speaking and simply looked over at him. He was sitting so close to her. At that moment she knew _he knew_ what it was but was feigning ignorance and not owning up to it. What was that thing he had said about being close to his 'time'? What did that have to do with anything? What did he mean by that?

She seized on the one thing she knew would eventually make him spill his guts. It wasn't fair, she supposed, but he'd used it on her many times in the past to get her to tell him things, accept his help, whatever it was that was needed by her from him. "But since we're friends I know you would have told me anything that important, so grandpa just couldn't be right. Maybe he's just mistaken or maybe I am." Was that a quick flicker of guilt she saw in his eyes? Whatever it was, she'd already dismissed his presence and returned to work. She was doing her best to act as if she trusted in his being her friend to let her know if he were in any trouble. _Let that little time bomb go off in his head later_ she thought.

Tiren stood and returned to his work, but a part of him was hung up on what Tila had just spoken with such confidence, that and the fact that she did not care about his dual heritage.

Ordinarily he would not feel the need to tell anyone his decisions since such things were personal. But if she had become such a close friend in such a short time his decision might deeply affect her for a long time afterward. She would need to be prepared. He would have to say something to her and soon.

His mind intervened, went down a path it should not have. Things being as they were between the two, why did his decision from so long ago have to be final now? Could he not perhaps change his mind?

He shook the thoughts away. He knew their friendship ran deep, but he could not presume upon it in that way. No. Perhaps it would be better if he kept it to himself after all. His decision had been so much simpler before he met her! And now, things had become more than complicated.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N - Longish chapter here. The end contains a bit of 'heat', but I assure you it remains rated 'T'!_

* * *

Tila let Tiren go that night and didn't mention another word to him having to do with whatever was going on. He obviously had something to work out and until he said something there was nothing she could do to help. He was a grown man, older than her by at least 10 to 12 years. She kept reiterating to herself, over and over again all the way home _mind your business, Tee!_

She distracted herself after she got home by catching up on the latest episodes of her favorite soap opera _Strike of Greed_. She thought she had succeeded in pushing it all the back of her mind by the time she went to bed.

As she lay there staring up at the ceiling, there was a feeling of dread starting to climb up her back. That feeling was saying that something terrible was going to happen to Tiren if she didn't get to him in time. No matter how many angles she viewed it from, she could not figure out what might be going on.

Exhaustion was the thing that finally forced her to go to sleep, but most of it was deep and dreamless. There was only one dream and it intervened upon her in the wee hours of the morning not long before it was time for her to awaken.

_She came upon Tiren in a dark, empty place. Wherever it was, it devoid of description and confusingly without substance. She didn't know where this place was supposed to be. There was a fire raging far from them as she observed him simply standing there, arms folded, almost arrogant looking face refusing to acknowledge her presence as he looked off into the absent horizon. He was close, but she sensed he was so far away._

_The fire she sensed then grew closer in her awareness. Looking around, she couldn't see it directly. But looking back at him again, she knew he was sick. No, she realized, he was not 'sick' in the classic sense of the word. But he was trapped in something that had him chained deep down in his soul and there was nothing he could do on his own to shake it off. He needed help. To make matters worse, in the dream she realized he'd decided to not seek help. He wanted to let this thing, whatever it was, take him down into a violent dishonorable death._

_Her shock was palpable in the dream and she sent it to him. _

'_What? But why? Why!'_

_He would not listen. He would not accept help. He would die and willingly, too. He began to walk away and now she could see the flames. He walked toward them, her following. But there was an invisible barrier at a certain point and she found herself trapped behind it. She banged on it but it would not move._

_She hit the barrier again and again, but there was no sound. He continued walking. She was unable to get any words out. He hesitated, turned one last time and looked back at her. There was regret on his face as his eyes softened for a split second. The resolve in his eyes appeared again and she felt him withdraw from her as he turned back again and willingly entered the flames. He was gone._

_But why? She needed to know, why?_

She awoke yelling, "Why?" She scrambled to sit up in bed. But she now knew for an almost certainty. The man who had become her best friend, the best friend she had ever had, was going to be lost to her before long and she didn't know how to prevent it.

##

There seemed to be an invisible line drawn between them. She had decided to stay out of his way, give him time to think. Maybe that was all he needed?

It pained Tila to give him that space, but she knew somehow it was safe to let him have it for the time being. If he needed time to figure out how to tell her what kind of trouble he was in, she would give it to him.

The questions, though, continued to consume her after that strange dream. What sort of trouble could a Vulcan get into that was this deep and this dark? What? She knew he wouldn't do something as ridiculous as borrow from mobsters like the Orion Syndicate or loan sharks. Maybe it had to do with his Romulan side? But she had a feeling, no, that was not it. She knew Tiren would never betray the Federation or the Vulcan Council by trading information to the Empire. Besides, what information would he even have to trade? The best textiles and pottery clays that were in high demand on Vulcan this year? No, that wasn't it, either.

Whatever it was, she knew it had to be bad because Tiren entered a dark period with his creations. His work was deep and troubled. They knew someone would buy it, the buyers who were into the stranger side of this spectrum of art. But this was not his work, he knew. It was a side effect of what was coming for him. It pained him to know that he might never create things that brought him inner joy and this would be it, the legacy of the end of his days.

##

Less than a month went by after that disturbing dream and she had the distinct feeling that he was avoiding her. When she was in the office, he was not. He seemed to switch his nights and days. He created while she was in the office and when she was leaving, he would enter the office to do his regular work. She couldn't help but feel a little bit hurt. He didn't visit her home at all anymore and she knew better than to go to his.

Sitting in her apartment alone, Tila admitted to herself that for days she'd done nothing but think of him. She missed his presence, his voice, the subtle form of dry humor he had learned to wield like one of his crafting tools.

How long had it been since they'd spent a day together to inspire his art; or that she came out and found him sleeping on her couch or in the middle of a meditation cycle; or sitting there, waiting for her with breakfast for the two of them? Her instincts told her that she had not only seen the last of those days with him, she sensed she would lose him altogether. And all of that would be gone for good? No! Enough was enough.

It was time for her to do whatever it took to get him from the edge of whatever this was that had him in its thrall. She pulled on clean clothing and prepared to confront this demon. He was going to tell her what was going on and she was going to help whether he liked it or not. She was not going to take 'no' for an answer.

Tila went by the crafters shop, first, and saw he was already gone for the night. Good. That meant he could only be at his apartment and she went straight there.

Tiren was only half surprised to see her at his door. The dark part of him that was beginning to take over saw more than just his friend. He saw the deep olive of her skin and its healthy smoothness, the very darkness of her hair and the large lustrous curls that unfurled down her back. And he saw her eyes, the deep dark brown pools of care and concern that only looked up into his and wanted to help. Why did she have to come here, now? Why was his decision being tested in this way?

He stood in the doorway as if to block her entrance. "Tila, why have you-"

But a side of _her_ he had never seen emerged. "Get out of my way, Tiren. You _will_ let me in and you _will_ tell me what is going on right now."

He found himself slightly amused as he stepped aside and let her enter his apartment. So he would have to tell her after all. She would not be denied. And it was her right, after all, to know what was going on after what they had become to one another. "As you wish," he said as he watched her install herself on his couch.

He went through the customary pleasantry of putting out refreshments for them both, though he suspected neither one of them would touch them this time. It was not like before, where he prepared things in his kitchen while the two engaged in conversation. This time, things were silent. The tension in the room was noticeable as she simply stared at him, eyes squinted, trying to figure out what was going on here. He put the items down on the table just near his couch and then sat, as well.

"Spill it," she commanded, her arms folded in front of her, the moment he sat way far down on the other side of the couch. A part of her was disturbed by that. He'd never sat so far away from her before. Maybe he thought she had gotten too close and was trying to shut that down? She didn't know.

The last piece of a puzzle moved into place for Tiren. He looked at her and the logical part of himself still functioning from their friendship was there, looking her in the face. "She knew," he realized. "They both knew. This is what my old friend from Earth, Benjamin, would call 'a set-up'."

Taken aback, she had no idea what he meant. And to hear such slang from his lips made her laugh briefly. It was a quick laugh that didn't defuse the tension in the room, though. "A set-up? Who set who up? What for?"

"Our grandparents…" He looked away from her as the rest of the pieces of the puzzle moved around further and adjusted in his mind. It hadn't occurred to him how much his decision would pain his Clan Mother. She had already done the best she could to reason with him, with full logic, to talk him out of it. But he had been determined and presented his own brand of logic to refute hers. She pronounced his train of thought logical and sent him on his way. But she had another brand of logic she knew was the perfect weapon. She had obviously used biology against him in the most subtle of ways. His own Clan Mother had resorted to trickery and used his ancient drives and nature against him. That she was capable of such manipulation paired with logic… Fascinating!

"I was bonded- married," he announced out of nowhere. "We were betrothed at seven."

Tila knew of the practice since she'd been to countless betrothal ceremonies in her time since she was born and raised on his world. She knew the custom well. "So your wife-"

"Ex-wife," he felt the need to clarify. "As children, we spoke often."

He thought of the strange conversations they would have, mind to mind, from the moment they were bonded. At first, as a young boy, he found it slightly off-putting. But as he grew, it became a comfort. And just as he came to rely on her, her input, her thoughts, just the feeling of her presence within him…

"As she grew to maturity, she realized what I was and found my Romulan blood more than distasteful. We attained adult hood and found ourselves to be…incompatible. My first Times with her were dissatisfying, to say the least. I always knew, through the bond, that she did not wish for me to even touch her. She took precautions so that she would not produce children with me. We spent our time as a bonded couple apart at all times. We did not live together, rarely spoke with one another. And upon my second blood fever, she used the opportunity to enact the Kal-if-fee. I was not at all surprised by her decision."

Tila was mesmerized by his tale. That fact that it had slipped in their last true conversation that he was close to his 'Time' had not escaped her. But she had taken for granted that he was most likely bonded, but now she realized he was not. This changed things substantially in her mind. Now she realized he had been in combat during his last Time. But it was hard for her to believe he'd lost to another victor from the sheer size of him alone, so how was his ex-wife an 'ex'? "She chose a champion. Did that champion-"

"He lost. But I released her from our bond, though by rights she was still mine. I do not ever wish to keep what is not truly mine," he said as his eyes finally locked onto hers. "My clan mother dissolved the union right then at my request." He seemed to be locked in the past. "I decided I would not put myself through such a thing ever again. And Clan Mother knew as she entered our minds to dissolve the bond. She said nothing at that time, but waited, hoping that biology would be on her side. When there remained less than two years on my inner chronometer, she began having me at her residence to discuss likely brides." He looked down at his hands, shook his head. "I did not wish to bond with any of them."

"Surely you changed your mind at some point," she remarked, shocked.

"I did not."

She had lived there all of her life, only knew these things because of the relationship her grandfather had with T'Kaletul. "But you'll die," she said, her anxiety level rising, her anger at him hitting the surface. But her anger with herself was there, too. She should have known that this is what it was he had been wrestling with. Perhaps she had not seen it because it was just too close? Or maybe she hadn't seen it because she didn't want to see it? Had the sensitivities of the planet rubbed off on her so badly that she found it disconcerting to even think of the words 'Pon Farr'?

His eyes bored into hers then. "Clan Mother knew the only way to interrupt my decision was to put a mate in my path. My biology is such that I cannot ignore all possibilities sent my way and my logic has recently risen and pronounced my decision of the past faulty and based on illogical emotion from the combat of the last kal-if-fee. I truly did not wish to kill again." He did not tell Tila that in his rage, when he had killed his wife's champion, he was fully present in that moment as he felt the life bleed out of his opponent. It felt good to kill the man, to see and smell and telepathically feel the lifeblood seep from his body. And then, that quickly, when his opponent breathed his last and his eyes dilated, Tiren was himself again and in that split second a mass of emotion rose up within him to assault and accuse. That impression from the past of his horror and disgust not just with himself, but with her, filled him once more. But the problem was that that other person was returning, that person that enjoyed killing his rival. He was keeping that other person at bay for now…for now.

She saw that he had gone into his head, thinking of something else. She pulled him back to their conversation. "What decision was- is that?" she asked, afraid to know. "The decision your clan mother knew at that point?"

He looked away, could not even meet her eyes. "I will-" he paused at first, not wanting to tell her. "I go to the edge of the desert and wait until the blood fever is fully upon me. I will walk, without a mate, into the open desert like what was done in ancient times and allow the blood fever and harshness of the land to take me down into death. Perhaps something merciful will occur such as a wild animal coming across me in my madness, perhaps a carnivorous plant or a _le-matya_-" He couldn't go on any longer. He expected tears from her, expected her to beg him not to do so, but he did not expect what came next.

She let out an exhale of disgust, now openly angry as she quickly stood and practically looked down on him. "You cannot even look me in the eye when you speak these words to _me_," she said in his native tongue. They very rarely spoke Vulcan with one another, though he knew she could, so to hear such words so harshly put in his language caused his head to snap around and forced him to look up into her blazing eyes. He saw it then, she was quite angry with him. She moved rapidly to stand directly over him as several tears of frustration broke free. "How _dare you_ become my friend, force me to care about you when you already knew you'd decided to do _this_," she said, her voice breaking on the last word. The hurt on her face was obvious.

He was looking up into her angry face, his eyes pleading with hers. "Listen to my words. Clan mother knew I most likely could not do this if I met you, knew you. That is what I meant by we were set up by both our grandparents. My resolve was so strong when I made my final decision two years ago and now it will not allow me to consider the old plan for longer than a few seconds at a time while there is a female near that my mind yearns to know."

His words weren't making much sense to her at that point. She was still just so angry with him for wanting to give up like that. "What are you saying to me?" she asked, her face openly concerned as she looked down into his eyes, waiting for his next words.

He reached up. His hands made contact with her arms, closed around them, pulled her to sit directly next to him. The sensation of feeling her skin through the pads of his fingers and hands was almost too much and he immediately pulled away to stop the sensations that bombarded him. But the moment he let go, he wanted to touch her again.

He was more than satisfied when he carefully took her hand into his own and she did not shy away. He was careful, that time, to not let his telepathy spill over onto her. Through sheer will, he put a barrier between them so as not to sway her one way or another. "I do believe you were put here for me on purpose. Had a Vulcan female been hired at the shop I would instantly have known what my Clan Mother was attempting to do, would have seen the manipulation for what it was and I would have fled from the situation. I still had control of all my faculties when you arrived, but since it was you I did not see her plans. Now I do. Do you understand?"

She was able to turn her anger off a bit to think about his words. But she was not ready to acknowledge all of what he'd said, because a part of her insisted what he was saying wasn't possible. "How close are you?" she asked.

"I cannot yet tell exactly when it will be since it is only my third time, but I estimate that in as short as one month, perhaps less, it will be upon me. I feel the beginnings of it, stirring within. It is still manageable, but it is there, lying in wait, ready to take over my mind completely and leave me with a madness that cannot be denied."

She just forced her mouth to not drop open. That was terribly close. He could be dead in less than a month, her Tiren. She couldn't control the shakes coming over her then, try as she might. Her anger was gone and her grief at what might happen was starting to overwhelm her. Before she thought of the wisdom of her actions she was up and practically in his lap, hugging him, her arms around him so tightly she did not want to let go. She couldn't help but to brush her face against his, feel his skin, push at the barrier that he had erected telepathically between them. It was surprisingly easy to push away and then there he was, brushing against her consciousness.

Tiren hadn't seen that coming, either, and almost lost his breath at the unexpected action. The parts of them that made them unique were beginning to spill over onto one another. It was more than pleasant in feeling to him. "Tila," he begged. "Please, I cannot do this if you refuse me. I cannot take it-" he was shaking his head, pushing her away from his body, sitting her directly next to him, disengaging them mentally from one another. He was shaken to his core from the brief exposure of such instant access to her inner mind. "You do not truly understand Vulcan men, the power of our drives, the possessiveness in our natures." The urge to bond with her was becoming overwhelming with the proximity of her body to his. He wanted to put his hands to her temples and bind the two of them and then claim his mate. He turned from her instead, placed his hands as far away from her person as possible, forced himself to breathe in and out, trying to regain his equilibrium of control.

She moved slightly away from him, felt bad for whatever he was going through at that time, wondered if it was a mistake to touch him like that. She didn't understand why she'd done that. But as he turned and looked back at her, she found herself pulled into staring at his eyes and saw that they burned with a brightness she had not seen there previously. What was that? The will to live? "What are you saying to me?"

"If you put yourself into my arms now and I allow it, I cannot accept an answer of 'no' from you later. I will pursue you, hard, until you give in to me. I will attempt to kill any rival for your affection that steps in my path, real or imagined, or until I die." His eyes were burning into hers, becoming deeper, his breathing slightly labored. "I am too close to the blood fever to see you in an abstract way. The hunger to know your mind is overtaking me. But I wish it very much to be voluntary on your part. I must know first if you wish to be mine." Another part of him grew louder, insisted he simply reach out and take what he wanted from her! He slammed it back and erected a barrier against that thought, waited for her words.

He stood and moved away, forced space between the two of them lest his insides betray him. "I formally ask for the rite of koon-ut-so'lik with you, Lady Tila Van Zandt. I am aware that some form of thought must be undertaken by you since I am asking for more than the usual from you. But your Giseth blood has made you stronger than the average human. I still have enough control to allow you to leave me this night. I advise that you take it now while I am still capable of giving it to you."

He approached again and she allowed him to reach out and stand her up by his hands touching the parts of her shoulders covered by clothing. Even so, her heart tried to leap out of her chest and up into her throat. Tiren…wait. What? He was escorting her to his door, opening it, his eyes still holding hers. "The moment you decide, you must tell me immediately. I sense there isn't much time." There was a haunted look in his eyes, a pleading. And there was heat.

##

Tila found herself in bed that night, once again not able to sleep at all. She tossed and turned and only fell asleep three hours before she was due to rise. She was late for work by an hour. She was never late for work. As she walked there, late, knowing she was late, she was in a little bit of a mental loop. She wanted so much to speak to her grandfather about this. But she knew this decision was hers alone.

Uncle Valen was in the store that morning in the regular section in the middle of pottery work. He didn't say anything to her about being late, but perhaps he would later. She walked to the back of the store and as soon as she opened the door to the office she saw Tiren was there, at his desk, his eyes boring holes into hers. "Tiren," she said as she nodded to him and he slowly returned the nod.

Deep within, she was worse than bowled over by his eyes and the core of her responded, willing and ready to physically give him what he wanted. There was no denying it, she wanted to fall in bed with him. But bonding permanently? A bond was something more than a marriage. Even having lived on Vulcan a majority of her life she never in her deepest thoughts even considered marrying a Vulcan or that a Vulcan would want to marry her. It was why her mother had made her go to Earth in the first place. But now here it was, this decision needed to be made.

She sat at her desk at one point not realizing that she had stopped working and was staring off into space, thinking.

Tila knew her decision had to be a serious one and not just based upon the fact that she wanted to save her friend from death or that she did find him extremely attractive. If she were honest with herself she had to acknowledge that she did want him there, moving about in her mind, brushing the insides of her thoughts. Her face turned a deep shade of crimson the moment she thought that and she realized the intimacy of such a union.

She realized that he had also stopped working and looked across the office and found him staring intently. The two held eye-contact for such a long stretch of time. It was sending shivers of cold and heat through the both of them, staring this way. It felt too good and they could both barely breathe. She looked away, knowing that it would be no good to lead him on until she knew exactly what it was she wanted.

Did she want a permanent bond of marriage? Who wouldn't want that from a lifelong mate? Would she want that from him? Because if she didn't he would know it and he would carry out his crazy plan of death. She had to be certain with all of her being before she said anything to him, before he connected their minds. It had to be 100% certain in her mind.

_Who the hell ever heard of a suicidal Vulcan? They needed to get him to a Master, stat, four years AGO!_

##

By the end of the day, Tiren had already retired to the specialty craft room and was working out his frustration through art. It had been a rough day for them both for differing reasons.

He had had to restrain himself from obeying his instincts and turning her desk over then pulling her into the back of the shop. She had had to restrain herself from looking at him. Every time they did, something explosive took place between them.

Valen stepped in to bid Tila good-night. "I must take my leave, now," he announced. "Is all well? You are still here?" he asked.

"I was an hour late this morning so I need to catch up on everything before I go home."

He nodded. She most certainly had been late. But he had not mentioned it. He was about to leave but then could not stop himself from turning back to her. "Are you troubled, Tila?"

She smiled at the man who had become an uncle to her at such a young age. He had watched out for her on so many occasions when her parents could not. She remembered the time Uncle Valen walked up on her and a rude young human when she was sixteen. The young man was being quite pushy. Having not grown up on Earth, she didn't know how to deal with that yet. Valen had walked straight up and said to the young man, "You will leave her alone this instant." And he had quickly retreated, intimidated by older Vulcan. Valen had then walked her home just to be sure she was all right and lectured her on the fact that she should have been at home studying and not out wasting time.

"I have to make my mind up about something, that's all, Valen."

He didn't know whether to leave her at this point. "Is it serious?" he asked as he hesitated in the doorway.

She smiled though she did not find any humor in the situation. "Yes, quite."

"If you are in need of guidance, I am certain your parents as well as my wife and myself could be of immense help to you."

"I know and I'll remember that. Thank you." He knew he was being graciously dismissed and simply nodded. His offer was on the table, but she was old enough to figure this out on her own. And he suspected what it might be.

He forced himself to turn and walk away. She did not see the need to broach the subject with him and as a result this was not his concern. This could not be discussed openly. Valen went home and left the two in the shop.

##

Tila was done with her work after the hour was up. She stood and was about to put her shoes on, but found herself looking backward toward the door that lead to the crafter's section. He was there. And there was no sound coming from the room, so he was obviously not engaged in any work.

She was in the middle of a war with herself as she stood there, paused. She wanted to go back and check on him, make certain he was all right. But some other part of her wanted to do more than just check up on him.

She had always over-thought everything she ever did and said. Maybe this was not one of those times she should overanalyze. Maybe she should simply act?

She was past thinking of should and shouldn't. She walked to the back to the store rapidly, needing to see him, needing to feel something, anything, but she didn't understand exactly what it was she needed. She just knew she needed to be in the same place he was as soon as possible. She still needed to think but she needed him to know that he was wanted by her.

Tila reached the door and pressed the release switch. And he was standing right there behind it, as if he had been there the entire time waiting for her to walk through.

Surprise flared in both their eyes for a split second as the both of them had a shot of arousal bolted through them simultaneously. He found himself reaching for her; one arm snaked out and wound around her waist pulled her into the wood shop and close to him as his other hand roughly hit the switch to close the door. He lifted her quickly so her still unclad feet would touch nothing on the floor and become damaged.

"You were there the entire time?" she almost whispered in awe. She wasn't able to speak above a whisper, could barely get the words out over a rising tide of arousal, trepidation and excitement. And there was uncertainty, fear.

He was placing her on a high wooden desk as his face pressed in, close to hers. "Yes," he answered back as their eyes devoured one another and their breaths mingled.

She wasn't aware of what Vulcans did when this happened, but the emotions coursing between the two of them simply from staring into one anothers eyes and invading one anothers space was more than enough at that point. It was so wonderfully difficult to breathe as she felt the heat of his body so close to hers.

He lifted one hand, allowed his middle and index finger to slowly grace the planes of her face. Tracing the edge of the top of her forehead first, he allowed the two fingers to slowly drift down the bridge of her nose.

Sensations swam through the both of them that neither had ever experienced. She had the overwhelming urge to reach up and pull his face to hers, kiss him. But she didn't. She waited and decided to feel the sensations he could induce in her first. She instead did the same as he was doing at that moment and lifted a hand, traced the planes of his face.

A steady hum of pleasure was building between the two and he was soon at it with both his hands using all of his fingers to lightly skim over uncovered parts of her face, hands, arms.

Instinct overwhelmed him and Tiren found himself leaning into her neck and inhaling her intoxicating scent. His teeth grazed her there and she inhaled sharply, offered her neck to him. She didn't know why she felt the need to do that, but she did.

His teeth slowly and gently began to bite at the sensitive area, and soon his tongue joined the lovely orchestration of sensation. He would bite, lick and then suck the area. Each bite became deeper and then his fingers touched her temple.

All she knew was he was linked to her in a way she didn't understand and didn't care to understand. It just felt good, the warmth spreading through her body, the closeness of him to her, his mouth working at that spot on her neck. It was the best make-out session she had ever had and they were still fully clothed and their mouths had yet to touch.

The link between them hummed and throbbed hotly as his teeth sank even deeper into her neck and she couldn't help but pull him in closer to her as she inhaled sharply, mouth open as she then exhaled on a moan of want.

It was too much. He sensed what she wanted and his mouth left her neck and came crashing down on hers as teeth, tongue and lips fought for control of the sensations barraging the both of them.

And that quickly, he lost control. Both his hands were on the sides of her face and he was inserting himself into her mind the way he wanted to insert himself into her body. A bond was established quicker than either of them knew what was happening.

* * *

_A/N: That's it for this chapter. Yeah, it's rated 'T', so sue me, lol!_


	5. Chapter 5

They left the shop together that night. Neither spoke because it wasn't necessary. They knew what had happened.

After his hands had dropped from her face they simply stared at one another, breathing heavily, distracted temporarily from what they had been on a course for previously. They were bonded. It was done. Nothing else had happened past the establishment of the bond.

Once they realized what happened, it was in a strange way enough for them both. They walked to her home without touching one another, but inserted within one another. After making it there, they entered her apartment, still tingling from the sensations of before.

They sat on her couch and simply looked at each other, in awe of the connection now between them. "It was not my intention this evening to-" he began.

But she quickly gave him a soft peck on the lips to stop his words. "Don't you apologize to me," she said softly. "I wanted it. We both did," she realized.

He was only just holding back a heavy void of sensations and emotions within. His face moved in closer to hers. "I sense you did not complete your contemplation of my offer," he said as the side of his face began to gently move against hers. "You were not fully aware of what I was doing when it happened."

She found herself close to tears as she felt the touch of his face against hers, the light hairs of his face touching her smoothness, and the feel of him deep within her mind. "So what," she whispered. "You're there now. And I like it."

He sensed the truth in her words. "I see the need to give you space at this time. You must think of what has happened between us." He didn't want to, but he pulled himself away from her. "When you are ready, come to me. Do not take too long."

She held his eyes. There were things she needed to do before starting a life with him. "I will come to you," she promised.

"I can make it to my home this evening. But I know I am no longer able to tolerate any others near me. You must speak for me to the outside world. Inform Valen to inform clan mother I shall not return to the shop until I have passed through what is coming for me. Tell them you shall attend me on my journey. I can see no one until then. My logic is faulty and I would cause shame upon myself and my family. When it is unbearable, you will feel a pull drawing you back to me. Obey it or we shall both suffer the consequences."

"Yes," she said, understanding exactly what he meant now since they were connected so intimately.

"I will meditate as much as possible until then. I wish for you to obtain rest, as well."

She didn't want him to leave, but she knew she couldn't just leave things as they were in her life and disappear for days.

##

Tila was at the shop the next morning. She didn't know how she had survived the night before. She only halfway slept. He was there, in her mind, and she found herself awakened several times throughout the night to speak with him, calm his almost raging mind. It was exhausting and beautiful at the same time.

She was so tired the next day at work but she also happened to be riding a strange wave of happiness. Valen came to the back of the shop since he had been busy crafting when she had entered. "Tila?" he addressed her. "You are overly fatigued." He realized then that there was no sign of Tiren anywhere.

She found herself smiling openly at him. "I'm fine," she said on a quick exhale. "But Tiren has sent me with a message. He won't be back until he's passed through what has come for him."

Valen's eyes widened only a fraction and then he was back to his usual impassive self. "And you are aware of this because?"

"I'm here getting things squared away for now. There was a lot left undone, so I came to fix it before I left. He wanted you to tell your clan mother that I will attend him."

He looked closely and could see just the outer edge of a mark to her neck peeking out from her high-necked shirt. It was much too warm for a human to be wearing such a clingy garment. He suppressed a smirk. "It is not necessary to cover that," he said as his eyes rested on the mark.

Her hand reflexively covered it and then dropped. "I didn't know," she said as she looked down.

"I shall go now and inform clan mother- you _are_ Tiren's bond mate?"

She knew him well enough to know he was trying to say, 'you two had _better_ be bond mates'. She laughed. "Yes, I am."

"Finish your work. I will speak with T'Kaletul and your parents."

"About my parents? That's okay. That's really a conversation I should have with them myself."

He seemed taken aback. "They are unaware? Fully unaware?"

She felt a pang of guilt. "Yes."

One raised eyebrow was his answer as he said nothing else, turned and walked away.

##

After getting everything in order at the office, postponing all of Tiren's appointments and hers, tagging all of the items for immediate delivery instead of waiting, she did double time at the office that day instead of her usual 8 hours.

After sixteen straight hours of work, she dragged herself to her parents' house to speak to them.

_My wife,_ Tiren's thoughts interrupted. _You are not heeding my advice. You are overly fatigued. Please rest immediately!_

_Not now, Tiren. I have to talk to my parents first about us. They deserve to know._

She could feel his flare-up of temper as he forcefully said _Comply!_

_Not now, you megalomaniac!_

He seemed to pause, taken aback by her words. _I am no such thing!_

All she could do was laugh out loud at his palpable shock as she let herself into her parents' house. "Mom, dad, are you here?" she called as she walked into the living room.

They were both sitting on the couch. Her father was reading and her mother was knitting lace. "Hello!" her mother said happily.

"What are you doing here?" asked her father with a grin. "Come for a visit with the folks?"

She sat down on the couch and took a deep sigh. "Um—yes. I'm going to be away for about a week, give or take a day or two."

"Are you going on vacation or something?" asked her father, surprised. She hadn't mentioned this before.

"Um…you could say that," she nodded.

But her mother, as all mothers could, was looking at her daughter and several things jumped out at her. "Why are you so tired? And what is that mark on your neck you're trying to hide with your shirt?"

_Damn, she's good!_ "Um…I'm kind of…getting married- am married…I don't know what you call it-"

"Married!" her father jumped up.

Was he angry? "To Tiren," she said gingerly.

And her father knew what it was then. "Oh," he said as his temper piped down. "Ohhhh," he said again as he sat and realized the full ramifications.

But her mother didn't know what was going on. "You're with the Vulcan?" she asked, openly shocked. "You _married_ him? When did that happen? You didn't even tell us you were going to marry anyone! I missed the _wedding_?!"

But she saw her mother was not angry about her getting married, just that she missed the nuptials. "Yes, I am," she said as she then looked over at her father. "Do you think you can handle this with mom? He's getting insistent and I have to go now," she informed him.

"Eesh," her father exclaimed not wanting to think about it too closely. "Fine. Go now, but tell Tiren we'll talk later. If he even understands at this point."

"Oh and you can blame grandpa for this one," she said with a grin as she made it to the door.

"Should have known my father would be behind all of this," she heard him saying as she left the house.

##

Tiren opened his door to her and hoped he could control his inner impulses until she was at least in the door. "You are here."

She could see he was less himself than he'd been the day before. He stalked behind her as she walked to his couch, sat very close to her as she sat. "What are you doing with a couch anyway?" she asked out of nowhere. It had never occurred to her, but a couch was a very human piece of furniture.

He was surprised at the sudden bend of the conversation and forced himself not to smile. "I have had many human guests come and visit who wish certain pieces of art. I noticed some were uncomfortable sitting on the floor, even on pillows. It is why I have both," he said as he pointed across to his faux coffee table and the large pillows on the other side of it. She nodded. Then turned back around and looked at him. He was less than a foot away, his eyes searching hers, intense. "You have not yet slept this night. And you slept poorly the night before. I am at fault."

"But I'm here now. I went home first and got a bag-"

"You will need sleep. I assure you of this. And though you are part Giseth, you are still mostly human. I ask that you sleep now while you still can."

"All right, I'll do that—hey!"

He did what he wanted to do the first night she stayed at his place. He stood, lifted her into his arms and carried her to his room that time. He put her in his bed where, in his opinion, she belonged. He removed her shoes since she had been so tired she'd forgotten to take them off when she walked into his home. He lay down next to her and, wrapping himself around her, he commanded, "You will sleep now."

Something told her not to fight him on this matter. Besides that, her eyes were already closing.

##

Tila slept well into the next day. She saw he was not with her when she awoke. She found the bag at the side of the bed she had brought with her and slipped into his bathroom with it to shower.

After her very thorough ablutions, she left the bathroom and found herself abruptly pulled into Tiren's arms. "Speak to me," he said in his low voice, his face coming closer to hers. "Tell me what I wish to hear."

An emotion hit her in the stomach and she was, once again, having a difficult time breathing normally. "I have given this much thought. And I _am_ ready now."

He reached out with his hand, eyes still surveying her face. "_I will not delay my wishes any longer_," he said in Vulcan.

Tila extended her hand to his. He reached out with his fingertips and when they touched, she let him initiate empathic contact. The minute she put her guard down she was bombarded by more than empathic impressions. A wave of blatant desire washed from him and into her. This was what he was feeling right now? Beneath the primitive emotion being rained upon him by the ancient drives there was admiration for her, caring and some deep overwhelming emotion that could not even be described as love, something that would have to be controlled at all cost lest it take control of him and force logic and reason from his mind, more-than-love she would think of it later. What does one do to express that? One word was not enough to encompass that emotion.

On his side, he could see her deep true regard for him. She did not burn like he did, so her feelings were not driven by some ancient hormone being pumped into her system forcing her to feel what she ought not, forcing a false sense of lust into her mind. And in her short time knowing him, she felt more for him than his former wife ever had in their adult years. But he learned what he needed to. His touch did not repel her, she sincerely wanted it. It made the fire within him burn brighter. He snatched his hand away.

"What is wrong?" asked Tila, distressed by his sudden withdrawal.

"I could not bear it if you turned away from me when it is fully upon me."

She grabbed his hand. "We will face this together. I'm not going anywhere."

He looked into her eyes and saw she was sure of herself. He delicately reached out, touched her face at the right points. She'd been to enough betrothals to know where her hands belonged on his face and placed her fingers at the proper points.

##

Tiren's father explained the entire process to her mother whom was more than shocked, she was horrified. "My baby consented to _that_?"

Her father sighed. "I spoke to dad. Apparently this young man has had a bad time of it in the past and decided to just let this time come up and do—well he decided to do nothing."

"I thought you said he would die if he did nothing."

"Exactly. I remember his last wife. A tall, haughty thing. She had been such a sweet little girl. We still don't know what turned her into that. It isn't against the law to have your bond stripped or to challenge so it's not like anyone had to require her to undergo examination."

His wife sighed deeply. "So you think your father and his grandmother-"

"It's obvious. They were set up to fall for one another from the beginning."

"And they fell for it, too," she said. Then she had to admit, "At least he's nice and I like him. She could have married that snake, Samuel. I like _this_ son-in-law much better."

"Son-in-law," said her father with a smile on his face. "You know what a son-in-law can lead to."

"Grandchildren!" they both said in unison with big smiles.

##

Ironically at that moment on a subspace communiqué T'Kaletul and Orin were musing much the same thing. "You know what these unions lead to?" he said.

"Great-grandchildren," she answered with a satisfied nod. She'd gone out on a theoretical limb to keep one of her favored grandchildren from dying. She would never admit that to anyone else but he was one of her favorites. And now he was saved due to Orin's granddaughter.

"It's been great conspiring with you," he grinned wide enough for the both of them.

"Likewise," she acknowledged.

"What a set-up!" he laughed.

##

The two were achy, exhausted and spent but the fires were finally doused. Half the furniture in Tiren's place was broken and they were both bruised. He would have to make new furniture for their home. New waves of heat, all his own, drifted into his mind.

"Don't you go thinking about that again," she said as she sat up in bed. It was one of the only articles of furniture not broken but it didn't exactly feel sturdy anymore.

She'd picked his mind up through the bond and always knew when he was having 'thoughts' about her. "I shall try my best," he said as he leaned back and kissed her hard and deep, his mouth fully open, trying to incite passion in her once again.

She broke free. "Tiren!"

"I apologize, wife," he said as he stood. "We have much to attend to. I have an ancestral home sitting on the edge of the desert, unclaimed. I am truly bonded. It is ours now."

##

Time slipped into the future and one month later as Tila cleaned out the last of her things from her apartment she got an unexpected call from Earth. As she accepted, the face on the other side of the screen made her mouth drop open in shock. "Samuel," she nearly whispered. Had she completely forgotten about him? Yes.

"You and I haven't talked in a long time," he said as he shrugged. "I thought it was only right that I call and see how you were, you know?"

She sat in front of the view screen and wondered how she was going to explain all of this. "Um…do you remember that conversation we had about seeing other people and how upset I was?" she asked almost delicately.

He sighed and looked at her through the view screen, his emotions clear on his face. "I was so wrong. Can you forgive me? You've been away for so long and I just called to say that I miss you and I want us to start over again. What do you say? I mean I know we need to talk for a long time and I'm willing to do that to work this all out. I'll do anything you want. I'll come there if that's what you want."

The irony of the situation was so ridiculous she had to force herself not to laugh through a wave of nervous nausea. She forced herself to really think about how she was going to phrase this. "Samuel, sometimes people say things and because they say these things, a whole chain of events happens that neither one of them anticipated. I understand you want to take all this back but it's too late now."

"Too late?" he said. "It's never too late."

"Um…" She didn't know how to say it so she just came out and said it. "I'm married now. It came out of left field-"

"Married!"

"-I didn't even see it coming. That word 'whirlwind'? That's pretty much the best description for what happened. But that's where I'm at right now and that's all. I'm sorry if that hurts you but I'm actually happy so I'm not sorry for me."

He didn't say anything at first, just sat there, not believing what he was hearing. "Do you love him?" he asked.

She swallowed. "With all my heart."

He nodded, trying to accept that he'd caused this chain reaction of events. "Who is he?"

"Why do you want to know that?" she asked.

"I want to know who I lost you to. Who is he?"

"He's one of the crafters from my grandfather's shop," she said.

"But I thought you told me the crafters were all Vulcans?"

She didn't answer verbally but just sat there nodding with a silly grin.

* * *

_A/N - This was the end of my story when I did it years back. But I'll leave it up to you guys in the reviews. Should the story 'end' here officially or should I add to it? It's all up to you! Weigh in!_


	6. Chapter 6

Tila was miserable. She didn't know how things had come to this. But there she sat at home, alone, on a Friday night.

Tiren had received a new order request and it was very large. She knew when the requisition paperwork came in that it would take up a large chunk of his time. He was still working on two other orders that were due within two weeks of one another. So when he accepted the new request outright, she was very upset with him.

##

"Tiren, didn't you think we should have discussed this first before you took on this order?" she asked later on that night when he arrived home.

"My wife, you were aware I was a crafter before we married."

"But this order is going to take up most of your in-store crafting time. And you know you still have to get both of those other orders done by their deadlines."

He paused at first, trying to temper his answer. "I am aware of my obligations," he said just a bit too stiffly.

She knew then that he didn't care for her saying anything to him. It wasn't like her, but she stood up from their bed and shouted, "Fine!" She began walking out of their bedroom room.

"Tila! My wife, where are you going?"

"I'm going to watch a net vid," she answered icily over her shoulder, not even bothering to look at him.

An hour into her show, Tiren exited the bedroom and sat next to her on the couch. As was his way, he simply sat there and didn't say a word. He waited until she gave him her attention. Tila rolled her eyes after fifteen seconds and paused playback. "Yes?" she asked, much calmer than an hour before.

"My wife, you are angry with me."

"Would you like some kind of award for that realization?" she snapped.

He was not used to her being this upset with him. He could handle her anger toward anyone else, but not him. "I have already contracted for the work. I am now under obligation. What would you have me do?"

"That's not the reason I got upset, okay?" she said and then folded her arms, looked away from him. She wanted him to leave and she wanted him to stay. She didn't know really what she wanted to happen next.

"Then why did you become angry with me and leave the room?" he asked, attempting to sort out the situation.

"It wasn't just that you took on work that's going to eat all of our time together. But when I mentioned it to you, I know that look on your face and I could feel it coming from you that you were actually _offended_ that I had the _nerve_ to bring it up to you that you had other obligations first. And I was just talking about work at point, too, not even _me _in particular! Well I _am_ offended that you took on more work and you didn't care that you weren't going to see me for a lot of that time while you were doing said work. But since it's already too late and you've already signed for it, there's no reason for us to even talk about this anymore. You know how I feel now and that's all there is to it."

Tiren was confused. "You saw my taking the extra assignment as being uncaring toward you and our time together?"

She didn't answer. It was common sense to her, but it was obviously news to him. She tried to calm herself down and see this from his point of view. But when she accessed their bond, he was in a true state of confusion. He didn't understand her point of view one bit. And she didn't know how to explain herself anymore than she already had. She knew he didn't understand and for some reason that made her angrier.

"The work I take goes toward funding our future. That is the ultimate expression of care," he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

She looked at him and wondered how it was he didn't get that if they didn't spend enough time together they wouldn't have a future? She had grown up on Vulcan and knew enough about the psychology of their males. He would see it as some kind of threat if she said that to him, so she didn't say a word. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and counted to ten. She forced herself to relax. This time, he would have to learn from experience.

She opened her eyes and looked at him with forced patience. "Tiren, I will try my best not to be angry with you about this anymore since you've already said it and it's true. What's done is done. I will also try my best while you're doing these assignments over the next couple of weeks, or months or whatever, not to say something annoying to you like 'I told you so' if we don't get enough time together. But just… can we both just agree to learn from this experience?"

He had no idea what she was talking about, but he simply nodded. "I have always endeavored to keep an open mind about all that happens between us."

She knew he was double talking her, he had no idea what she meant, but she also knew before this was over he was going to see exactly what she meant. And she could only stand and watch while he learned.

He sensed her true resolve to let things go for the time being. "Then you will return to bed at this time?" he requested.

She had to hold in laughter at the singular nature of his thoughts. "I'll come to bed now."

##

That night was the last night of 'fun' they had in a while because once the next day arrived, Tiren was off and out of the gate like a racing horse running for the finish line.

The only time they truly saw one another after that was during the in-office hours at the shop. She would go home at the end of her workday while he remained behind to fulfill all of his obligations in the workshop.

She would go to bed and some nights she would feel him get into bed with her later on after she was already asleep. But there were about two nights a week he didn't even get to go home. He would work straight through the night at the shop in order to get in the work on the other two specialty orders.

##

So a month into hardly seeing him, Tila was sitting at home alone on that Friday night.

She received a call from a friend of hers. "Hello?" she answered her PADD. The face of Ginger from her last job on Earth popped up. "Oh my goodness!" Tila exclaimed, full of surprise as she sat up excitedly.

"It's me, girl!" Ginger said with a huge grin. "I've been here like two whole days. I knew you were probably working during those days and didn't want to bug you! How's things going?"

"Fine! What are you doing here?"

"Well," said Ginger dramatically, "I came here for a conference on 'Incorporating Semi-Vulcan Fashions'," she air quoted. "It's the new rage on Earth, robes and such," she waved it off.

"Get outta here!" Tila said, shocked.

"Yes, girl! We don't have another conference day set until like Tuesday. It is Friday night and you know what I do on my Friday nights!"

"Party!" Tila shouted.

"That's right, girl! Get your butt up and meet me at my hotel room! We are going clubbing! Kara's here, too!"

"Oh wow! Okay, give me an hour. I'm going to get dressed and get on some make-up and oh man, this is _great_!"

"Don't hurt yourself, married lady!" laughed Ginger. "See you in an hour!"

Tila hadn't done such a thing in so long, for the first five minutes she ran around the house in an almost too excited state to think straight. She finally found the dress in the closet she wanted to wear, a lime green form fitting thing that was held up with spaghetti straps. It fit her like a glove, but it at least just covered her knees. The five inch heels, she knew, were just perfect. She also knew the high heels wouldn't last an hour. They would be discarded off in a corner somewhere as she danced as much as possible that night.

She jumped into the shower after waxing her eyebrows, legs and underarms. She exfoliated while in the shower, moisturized her skin after getting out of the shower and finally put her hair up into a chignon to keep it out of the way. She quickly painted her toenails lime green and smiled at the choice of color. She hadn't worn anything this outrageous in almost a year! She couldn't help but pick out the most scandalous underwear in her drawer, then she sprayed on a scent she hadn't worn in months. She felt like more than just her regular self. Some strange sense of self had hit her and she felt hyperaware of being young and full of energy, ready to embrace whatever good times happened that night.

After she was fully dressed, Tila added a couple of points to her 'badness portfolio' vibe when she snapped a ridiculously posed picture of herself with the auto function on her PADD, transferred it to the house computer and left a note for Tiren. 'Went out with some old friends. Be back by morning. Love, Tila.'

Tila was out of the door and in her shuttle with ten minutes to spare.

It was the most fun she'd had in so long, when she snuck back into the house in the wee hours of the morning, she hoped she didn't wake Tiren up. But when she got into the bedroom she realized he hadn't reached home, yet, either.

She laughed out loud at her fortune, undressed quickly, showered and went right to bed. Before she fell asleep, she remembered to set her alarm to wake her up four hours later.

##

Tila awoke later and saw she had two messages in her inbox. She opened the first message. It was Ginger. "Girl, it's me! I didn't drink too badly last night, so I'm not hung over. Well at least I'm not. Can you hear poor Kara back there?"

Tila flinched as she heard a serious case of vomiting in the background.

"Anyway," continued the message. "We wanted to go on a tour yesterday of one of the monasteries, but they said a resident has to bring us and we know you're a resident. Can you give us a tour? Kara's hypo should kick in any minute now. Call us back and let us know."

Tila shook her head at the state of poor Kara as she opened the next message. It was Tiren. "My wife, I opted to remain here at the shop the entire night, but the reward for my effort is that I have completed one of the requisitions. As such, I shall dedicate more of my time to finishing the second today. I will return to our premises to obtain rest this afternoon and then I shall depart again for the workshop this evening."

She shook her head again and called Ginger back. "Hey!" she said to her as soon as she picked up. "Can you take us to the monastery?"

"Sure," said Tila. "I can do that. I can fly us there and everything. Is Kara okay now? Did that hypo kick in?"

"She's much better, she's just about to drink this poor desert world dry with all the water she's sucking down that she can get her hands on. By the way, I didn't get a chance to talk to you yesterday, but I should have."

"What about?"

"Samuel."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh?"

"Yeah, he's kind of gone downhill since you left Earth, you know? He took it kind of hard when he found out you got married and everything."

She forced herself to smile. "Not my problem anymore!"

"Well," said Ginger, "I delivered my message from him. I feel better now. See you this afternoon?"

"See you this afternoon," she confirmed.

Tila cooked Tiren a bunch of different foods and put them into the storage replicator before she left. She put a note out for him that the food was available. She decided, on a whim, to pack a bag just in case the girls wanted to go out again that night. Knowing Ginger, she most certainly would.

The three ladies met up once again at the hotel. Ginger was a tall voluptuous woman with vibrant red hair and Kara was a very petite blonde. They always had a wonderful time anytime they went to hang out together. Tila had found them wonderfully emotional and human when she had first gone to Earth and for some reason she found herself able to relax fully with them while she still hadn't been able to with so many others. She often wished she could have been roommates with them instead of the group she wound up with.

"You brought a bag?" Ginger teased.

"I thought we might go out again afterward," smiled Tila.

"You know us too well!" laughed Kara.

"We want to go out for karaoke tonight! There's a karaoke bar over on Tseren and Third in the human section. You ever been there?" asked Ginger.

"Honestly, no," Tila realized. "I guess I can buy some slacks for that or something."

"Just wear what you brought!" said Kara. "I'm wearing a dress tonight, too."

"Okay," shrugged Tila. "Let's get to the monastery now."

She was glad both girls had had the foresight to wear long skirts for their outing. She wore the House Robes of Tiren and his clan and made certain she had a Planetary ID on her person.

They gained access to the monastery easily enough and were given a semi in-depth tour by one of the members of the order. It lasted about an hour and both girls were impressed by the architecture and size of the place.

"This place is _massive_," Ginger whispered, quite impressed, at one point.

"It is quite large, by many approximations," said the monk accompanying their tour. He had startled the two young women since they hadn't realized he could hear what Ginger had just said. "The temple section of the monastery is the oldest part of this order. It predates both the Reformation and Surak and has been an instrumental part of this planet's history."

The ladies thanked him profusely for his tour. When they were about to leave, the monk said to Tila, "I would ask that you sign, please, so that we may inform your clan mother of your attendance here this day."

The other two ladies left after Tila told them she would meet them outside. She turned to the monk and signed her name by hand in a large official-looking book. Most of the signatures were in Vulcan script, but there were a few here and there not in that language. It was a memory, of sorts, of names from across the galaxy. Her signature now sat along with the others and she was glad her father had sent her to a tutor when she was a child to learn the Vulcan script. "May I ask, what do they do this for, the keeping of this record?"

"You are not new to the planet, I can tell," said the monk. "But you are new to clan life. You have done a fine thing, educating yourself on the planet and people of he who happens to be your husband. But honestly, it is he who should have been the one to bring you here. You should not have come alone for your first post-marriage visit."

"I am not alone. I brought my companions with me."

"The Outworlders do not qualify."

It shone a spotlight on a situation she was trying her best not to think about. She realized then she had missed some sensitive social cue and wondered what it was. She felt the need to say, "I have been here before. When I was eight, my grandfather brought me along with the lady who is now my clan mother. Back then I didn't have to sign anything, though," she smiled only slightly. "I came again years ago before I left Vulcan to work on Earth. I didn't have to sign then, either. I should have come back as soon as I set foot on the planet. But my friends just came in for a few days and wanted a tour and so I brought them. My husband has work obligations and couldn't come with us."

"I beg forgiveness for my assumption, then, that your husband was not aware of your visit to this place. I assumed wrong, did I not?" he asked as his penetrating gaze held hers.

She realized this man that looked to be about 50 was most likely twice that age. What did this monk see that was obviously written all over her? What social cue had she missed after all these years living here that had shown itself by her going there without her mate? "Perhaps you didn't assume wrong after all," was all she said. She saluted him with the ta'al and then left.

Ginger and Kara noticed how quiet she was on the ride back to their hotel. "Is there something wrong?" asked Kara.

She smiled. "No! I just usually get kind of quiet after I go to a monastery, that's all."

"Are you still up for a visit to the karaoke place?" asked Ginger. "We don't want to wreck your chi or something like that."

"Heck yes I'm up for it!" she exclaimed. "I can't wait to go." She needed the diversion and she realized it might actually make her feel better.

##

They got to the hotel, showered and changed. "This planet's gravity is going to_ kill_ me!" whined Ginger.

Tila laughed, "I felt weird when I first got back, but after a couple of months I was already readjusted. How are you doing, Kara?"

The blonde was still trying to fix her skirt, but was having a hard time reaching a back button. "I'm okay, I guess. I just can't shake this slight headache. It happens to me, though, anytime I go to a high altitude or anyplace with less oxygen so I'm not shocked about it."

"She can't even handle the Colorado mountains!" laughed Ginger.

"Oh, make fun of me, will you!" Kara snapped.

Tila stood and helped Kara fix the button on her skirt. "You want to run by a clinic for a tri-ox shot?" she asked.

"Oh, yes!" said Kara, "Can we?"

They looked up information and found that the hotel actually offered two tri-ox shots a day for free. Both girls punched in for it and a cute man arrived with the shots ten minutes before they left.

The guy had dark hair and dreamy blue eyes and he was human. "Hey," Ginger said suggestively.

"Hey," he answered in the same way as he administered her shot.

"What you doing tonight?" she asked him.

"I don't know," he shrugged as he began walking toward the door. "What about you?"

"Going to the karaoke place to sing our hearts out!" she laughed.

"I know where it is. I'll see you there," he said, inviting himself.

After he left, Kara put her hands on her hips and gave Ginger a face. "You work so _fast_, you little hooker!"

"Don't call me names just because I see what I want and go for it."

Kara looked over at Tila. "You still haven't told us anything about your husband," she said. "Spill! We've been waiting for you to say something, but you've been so tight-lipped."

Tila sat down and pulled out her PADD. She called up a picture of the two of them from before the too-many-orders madness. "This is us."

Both ladies stared. "Damn, but that's a big Vulcan!" exclaimed Ginger. "What a hunk of man! Good job, Tila!"

"_I_ wouldn't go back to Samuel either," quipped Kara.

Tila smiled. "Tiren is a crafter. I guess handling large amounts of lumber and other stuff has bulked him up a lot. Well that and he's a master of Vulcan martial arts. He could have been a bodyguard but his talent was so outstanding he was put into the crafter's profession when he hit his teens."

"So you got yourself a fighting artist!" laughed Ginger. "I'm not good with that sort of stuff. What does he do?"

"Furniture, but sometimes he dabbles in sculpture," said Tila. "Oh, remember those big publicity pieces delivered to Starfleet Academy last year done by each world in the Federation? That likeness of Ambassador Spock, I found out that it was Tiren that did that one."

"He's gifted," said Kara truthfully. "He knows the ambassador?" she whispered in awe.

"Yes, he does, but only casually. I wish I could see more of my husband these days," admitted Tila. "He's got orders up to his neck so the only time I see him is at the job. We work at the same place. But then at the end of the day, he's crafting and I'm home alone."

"That's why you've been able to be with us like this?" asked Ginger.

"Yeah."

"My mom and dad had a seriously awful schedule sometimes," said Kara. "And so does my sister and her husband. I don't know what mom and dad did and quite frankly I don't want to know. But Melissa and Jimmy got…creative." She smiled mischievously.

"Creative?" asked Ginger. "Creative how?"

Kara's face became downright wicked. "Melissa would put on a trench coat and go to his job late at night sometimes and 'surprise' him, if you catch my drift."

Tila thought of walking through the streets of Vulcan with just a trench coat on. She was scandalized, horrified and turned on by the thought all at once. She found herself laughing at the mental picture.

"Let's go sing!" Ginger declared. "Get your frustration out in song!"

They made their way to the karaoke establishment. It was a wonderful night filled with singing and drinks. Tila refused to sing at first but was pushed onstage by both the girls when the song 'Bad Romance' began. She was one of the few people who even remembered the tune and Ginger knew she would because she was the one that introduced her to it all those years ago.

Tila started out shy and low voiced, but by the chorus, she was deep into the song, singing full voiced:

"I want your love and I want your revenge, you and me could write a bad romance.

I want your love and all your lovers revenge, you and me could write a bad romance! Oh-oh-oh-oh-oooh! Love and bad romance!"

The place was truly jumping at that point, patrons were cheering her on and she fed off of the energy and became something she never knew she could. A pop star. For about four whole minutes. Then the song was over.

She got offstage, but no one succeeded in making her get back on again after that. She felt truly embarrassed every time she thought about it, especially when some of the guys in the bar kept looking at her and checking her out. Ginger's hotel guy showed up somewhere in the middle of all that and hung out with them for the rest of the night.

The ladies left later on that night and Tila figured no harm was done as she dropped her two friends off at their hotel. She was rather proud of the trouble she had not gotten into since she had only ingested two drinks before being pushed up onstage. She was a lightweight and hadn't had anything else to drink after that, so she was more than sober by the time they left the club.

She drove home that night and found herself singing 'Bad Romance' rather loudly in her shuttle alone, a huge grin on her face. After she parked and got out of the shuttle, she grabbed her bag and let herself into the house, that time singing a Klingon song of death, love and meeting in the afterlife.

Tiren, to her shock, was sitting in their living room, the still frame of her in the lime green dress from the day before blown up large onscreen. "Wow, you're just seeing that now?" she asked, still buzzing from her great night at the bar. "That was like yesterday!"

He looked her up and down as he saw she was not wearing the same outfit as in the photo and asked, "May I ask your whereabouts for this day and yesterday, my wife?" His eyebrow had risen substantially.

Her positive buzz gone, she suddenly felt self-conscious in the pink skirt and peekaboo blue top that was modest in front, but showed off half her back via clear mesh when she turned. But she reminded herself that she had done nothing wrong at all. "I went to a club with my friends last night," she said casually as she walked to their bedroom to put her things away. "Then they wanted to go to the monastery so I took them for a tour-"

"And you were dressed as such?" he asked, halfway alarmed as he followed behind her.

"Oh was I not supposed to wear this? You'd think I would know how to dress after all this time here, right?" she asked him with impatient sarcasm. "Um, NO! I wore _these_!" she said angrily as she pulled the robes out of the bag she was carrying. "Afterward, I changed into _this_!" she motioned at her current outfit, "and we went to sing karaoke at a bar in the human section." She began straightening out the robes and head covering to hang them properly in the closet. She dusted off some of the desert sand that had gotten lodged in the hemline.

Tiren stood there and surveyed her side of the closet. How had he never noticed all of the revealing dresses, skirts and tops before? Perhaps because they had been constantly in one another's company since meeting…until now. He said the first thing he thought without thinking first. "You are attempting to garner my attention via bad behavior," he observed.

She gave him a cutting look. "That's so beneath you to say such a thing to me."

"My assertion is untrue?" he challenged.

"This is not 'bad behavior'!" she shouted. "It's normal! Humans go out and have a drink or two, or not, but sometimes we like to-" she floundered for the proper words to explain karaoke, "-sing in large groups." She began to giggle then as she thought about the look that must have been on her face when her friends made her sing. "Oh God, I wiped out onstage tonight at first because I fell and my head hit the wall when they pushed me up there!"

He didn't understand what she meant at all. "Stage?"

She realized, "You've never been to a karaoke bar, have you? Well neither had I until tonight."

He was honestly confused. "You have been to a club, a monastery and then a karaoke establishment?" He found himself saying, "These events do not seem harmonious in nature."

She sighed tiredly. It didn't seem to matter what she said that night, he had a problem with everything she did. "I give up. I'm going to bed now."

He followed behind her, wanting to get some answers. "You have dressed and behaved in a scandalous nature in public!" he charged.

"If I'd rode some guy's disco stick in that club then you could say I was scandalous in public!" she said as she walked into the bathroom while taking her clothing off from that night. She got into the shower and set the temperature of the water, turned it on full blast. "All I did last night was dance!" she said over the sound of the water. "I danced with my friends! I didn't even dance with another man since I knew you wouldn't like that! Then I went to a monastery, dressed the right way, mind you, and acted correctly. Then I went out tonight and sang and had only _two drinks_. Do you know how nonexistent that is in the annals of drinking? I've dressed and behaved in a scandalous nature in public? No, what I did was behave human in public and that's your problem, not mine!"

He realized then that maybe he was seeing her activities in the wrong light. "Do you assert that you have done nothing improper this evening?"

"If you have to ask me that, you're the one with the problem!" she shouted on the other side of the glass partition while soaping up.

His wife was obviously very angry with him. He was ready to let things go, but then he could hear her PADD chirping from her bag. He went and removed it from her bag without thought and accessed it without her permission.

She saw him suddenly disappear from the bathroom and had a bad feeling. She rinsed off the soap from her body and hair and exited the shower after turning it off. As she toweled herself dry, she could hear a very familiar voice coming from the bedroom singing 'Bad Romance'. The size of her eyes grew as she realized that Ginger must have been taking footage of her as she sang that night. She rushed out of the bathroom and saw her very Vulcan husband sitting there, his mouth a thin line of obvious near-anger as he watched the screen.

Tila was wearing nothing but a towel and feeling quite vulnerable as his eyes rose to meet hers. She ran over to her PADD then and snatched it from him, meant to turn the thing off. But she stood and stared at the footage of herself onstage. She couldn't squelch the small amount of pride at not only her voice, but the way she moved to the music. "Damn, I look semi-professional in my delivery," she found herself mumbling almost comically as she continued to watch.

But as he stood and looked over her shoulder, all Tiren saw was the rapt attention she held the males of the audience in as everyone cheered her on and danced in place. She seemed to enjoy the attention and feed off of it during her performance, her smile wide, eyes sparkling. He realized then that he could never give her that kind of attention. The song ended and he could see her friends rush the stage and pull her into a hug as she beamed a huge smile of pride and joy as she ran back to her seat with them in the back. The footage ended.

She sat down on their bed in her towel and looked over at him as she clutched the PADD in her lap. "That's what I did tonight. And that was the only song I sang onstage," she shrugged. "I've never done anything like that before," she admitted. "Usually the karaoke I did on Earth was just among friends in a tiny rent-a-room with our own unit and music. But this is the first time I've done this in front of strangers. I performed, that's all."

He was trying his best to expand his mind. He could detect only a trace of guilt from her, nothing overt. He knew this meant she felt she had done no true wrong but she was upset because he did not like what he had seen. "Yet you enjoyed this attention."

"Of course I did," she said with a smile. "It's only…human. I didn't know I could sing like that in front of strangers!"

He realized they were speaking of two separate things. "And your movements?"

"The dancing? You're actually scandalized by the dancing?" she asked.

"It was not your voice the males of the establishment were responding to, though it was delivered tonally correct. It was a response to the superior nature of your particular physiology."

She found herself suppressing a huge grin. "Yeah, I know!" she said as a small grin slipped through anyway.

His ears turned deep green. "You are pleased with yourself over this display?"

She sighed tiredly. "Tiren, can I ask you a question?"

"Most assuredly, wife."

"What does it mean to you to be human? I mean, to you, what does it mean when you think about the expression 'Being Human'?"

He sat there and blinked at her for a second. "It means to not suppress your emotions. To do as you see fit regardless of what is proper."

She shook her head. "That is not what it means, at least not to me it doesn't."

"Then you will tell me at this time what it means," he nearly demanded.

She gathered her thoughts as she tried to get her point across. "I've lived on your planet all of my life and did what I was supposed to do among your people. My mother pushed me to go to Earth to learn what it meant to be human among humans and not just Vulcans. At first I hated that she did that to me, pushed me out of my comfort zone. But now I realize that I did learn what it meant and I'm glad I did. And being human means being adaptable, at least to me that's all it means. And I have a right to act like a human when I'm with humans."

He was still out of his depth in this conversation. "My wife, social human behavior is beyond me," he admitted.

"I've only just figured it out myself a couple of years ago," she also admitted. "Although, at this time I must inform you that you _never _go into a woman's purse without her permission! I don't even think that's only a human thing, that's like universal with females everywhere. Nothing says 'I don't trust you' more than that."

He realized he'd done so when he went into her bag to retrieve her PADD. "I looked at your personal message without permission, as well," he readily admitted.

She saw he was remorseful about that. "Yes, you did," she nodded as she placed her PADD onto the nightstand next to their bed.

"I will not do it again," he promised.

"Thank you," she said with a half smile as her arms encircled him.

"That is all you require? My promise?" he asked, confused by how quickly she was willing to let it go.

"That's it."

"May I ask why you are willing to believe me so quickly?"

"Because I trust you. You've always told me the truth and I trust you because of that."

He simply nodded and his mind turned to the question he needed to ask. He got to the root of his thoughts quickly, "So you would not prefer a male who shows his emotions to all in addition to what I have already promised?"

She realized then that he felt as if he were not enough in some way. Was he threatened by her reaction to the men in the bar? "No!" she said as she went and sat on his lap. "Never. That's not who I want. I want you the way that you are right now. We're figuring things out together and everything but I don't want anyone else. I thought you knew that."

He pulled her in closer and realized then his wife was in his lap wearing nothing but a towel. "I am very pleased," he halfway whispered as his eyes held hers.

She realized they hadn't been together in quite some time. She even felt halfway shy about sitting this way with him, in this state of undress, and her face flamed up at the thoughts she could detect in his mind. He had that look on his face. She hadn't seen that look in quite a while since he'd been so focused on fulfilling his contracts.

Before she could think straight, she was becoming dizzy from him suddenly lifting her and expertly placing her beneath him, her towel gone in a quick lift and throw across the room. She inhaled sharply as his still clothed body met hers.

He breathed in the scent of her neck before he began to kiss and bite at a place she couldn't cover in regular clothing just off the side of her jawbone. It was a very sensitive spot, he knew. "You may go out among humans, I shall promise to never prevent that. It would be wrong of me to do so, I understand that."

She knew that meant she was going to be sporting a large mark the next day while she ventured out with her friends again. But she was so turned on by his attentions as his hands pulled her even closer to him, she didn't care where she was being marked.


End file.
